Penance
by lochness20
Summary: It's been weeks and the team still hasn't embraced Jane's return. Will that change when they finally realize how broken she has become?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own blindspot :(

This is set in the beginning of season 2 - I was intrigued by the amount of angst in the first episode and decided to take it further. I felt terrible for Jane and wanted to emphasize how broken she could be from her experience and see how the team would react.

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Chapter 1

Broken

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Jane woke up screaming. Her body lurched and spasmed in the aftershocks of relived torture and her raw throat gasped for breath. Clutching desperately at the sheets, she hurled her body over the side of the bed and aimed her churning stomach towards the waiting bucket. Long after she had emptied her stomach her belly continued to twist and roil painfully with dry heaves. Once the spasms stopped she gingerly crawled to her feet. The clock read 2:47AM… _great_ … Mindlessly she picked up the bucket and trudged to the bathroom to rinse it out.

Exiting the bathroom, Jane grimaced as she stepped into the kitchen for some water. She should eat something, but, as always, her stomach revolted at even the thought of food. _Maybe later._ Her apartment was stark and stripped of any personal effects. What was the point in collecting things that she would never use. She was very aware that her life probably wasn't going to last much longer anyway. The only sign that she lived there was in the living room where she had set up mats and a punching bag.

She slowly stretched and cleared her mind of the nightmares. As she pushed her body through endless exercises she punished herself harshly. Even without the team's help, Jane had long accepted that she deserved pain for her stupid decisions. She had thought she was doing the right thing but she was wrong. Mayfair was dead and it was her fault. She pushed her body faster and forced herself to punch harder, kick higher and stretch further.

The team can't stand her very presence and she welcomes their hatred. Zapata had already told her that they would never forgive or forget what she had done. The cruel barbs and unveiled contempt from each member of the team only cemented what she already knew; it was her fault and she was alone. This was her third (or was it fourth?) chance at life and she seemed to screw it up worse each time. She found herself on her knees, battered and bruised. She was tired, so tired. Jane ached to curl up in the corner until everything faded into nothing, until she felt …. nothing.

There was one redeemable aspect of her life - one thing that she held onto and that got her out the door - that she could still help them. No matter how unwelcome her presence. No matter how much they despised her, she could still get close to Sandstorm and she could still fight to protect them. It was the least she could do; a final act of penance.

Hours later she showered and prepared to go to work. She made a cup of coffee and even managed a couple bites of banana before she gagged. Pausing in front of the mirror, she studied her sunken and tired features and fingered the dark circles under her eyes. P _ull it together, Jane. Focus on today. Focus on the mission. Help the team. Pain is a dream. Only a little longer, now_. She repeated the mantra to herself silently as she washed her face and carefully concealed any sign of weakness. Her clothes hid the bruises from her overzealous workouts and makeup masked the gauntness of her features. She didn't dare give the team any more ammo to use against her.

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If you like the story - I have a few more ideas for chapters, if not I can just leave it as a one-shot

super inspired by ElineS and Loretta Lyon's fics check them out… loving the angst right now


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here we go… chapter 2. Your reviews were so awesome guys. I haven't really posted on this site before and you all were so encouraging.

This chapter is in Kurt's POV - I think they will alternate as the chapters go on. Forgive me if the case seems awkward, I am not nearly as creative as the writers on Blindspot *sigh* but I live in hope

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Chapter 2

Bitter Realizations

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The paperwork was endless in his new role as the Assistant Director. For the millionth time since he took this position, Kurt wished for his old job back. Groaning, he popped his back and rolled his neck to loosen the tension. Kurt gazed blearily out of the clear walls of his office to spot his team. No one was in sight… well… except Jane, sitting quietly at her desk.

It's been weeks since Jane returned and Kurt could still hardly bear to look in her direction. Seeing her brought everything back… his father, Taylor's body, Mayfair's death, and Jane's lies. Kurt's lips curled back in anger and he looked back at his paperwork.

Taking a few deep breaths he brought his mind back around to what Borden had been saying in recent sessions. Deep down, Kurt supposed he knew that Jane wasn't malicious and that most of what happened wasn't in her control. Jane had thought she was Taylor and she had wanted to protect the team… him.

It was just so… hard to let those feelings go. And Jane was so… easy to blame. She even seemed to accept her role as scapegoat. Whenever Zapata or Reade baited her with snide comments and outright flaming insults she shrugged them off and stayed silent. They snubbed her, laughed at her and blamed her and she just… accepted it; sometimes she even apologized.

A small tendril of guilt niggled Kurt's brain, he knew he should intercede more on her behalf… but it would be hypocritical since he hadn't been treating her much better. He winced in recollection, Jane's eyes had been so painfully wide when she heard him call her Mayfair's killer… almost like he had slapped her across the face. Her face had twisted with agony and he had almost… NO! He was not going to be sucked in by her vulnerability again. If Jane had a real issue, then she would come to him or Naz and then they would deal with it.

Kurt glanced up at her again, she really had been taking too many dangerous risks lately… maybe he should talk to Borden about…

" HEY GUYS! I've got something!" Patterson called out gleefully as she made her way to the monitors outside his office. Then again, they had been solving cases amazingly fast, why fix what wasn't broken. Kurt dismissed his concerns and made his way out.

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Kurt looked out the window of the plane - it looked like his grandmother's old patchwork quilt. They were on their way to an abandoned ghost town in northern Indiana called Bedsford.

One of the geometric tattoos on Jane's shin matched a large crop circle found outside the town several years ago. No one claimed responsibility and the crop circle itself was probably a prank. The ghost town itself, however, was private, full of empty warehouses and had an overgrown runway. It was an ideal place to hide illegal activity.

Kurt glanced at his team - they had already put together a game plan and communicated with Patterson via their tablets. They were going to cautiously investigate the area to see if it was, indeed, tattoo related. Reade caught his eye before gesturing his head towards Jane.

Kurt looked over, Jane used to be a form of entertainment whenever they flew because she was so endearingly afraid of flying. Now she looked… vacant. Zapata and Reade had been periodically watching her throughout the whole flight — Jane was sitting cross-legged and silent in the farthest seat from the team and she was staring at nothing.

In his memories, Jane was always associated with action, seeing her so still and disengaged was disconcerting… so unlike her… Kurt had almost forgotten that she was even there. She hadn't said a word since they got on the plane. She hadn't even offered any ideas for their scouting mission. Then again, he supposed he couldn't really blame her... in the first few missions her input had been immediately and viciously discounted. Reade had even once accused her of leading them into a trap…

He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. Kurt shrugged his shoulders at Reade before beginning to stretch his limbs. They needed to focus on the mission at hand, they were landing soon and he had a team counting on them. Jane just wasn't a priority right now.

The plane landed on the old runway and they swiftly disembarked. Reade was wearing heat sensing goggles and was searching for heat signatures hidden in the buildings.

"Weller," Reade whispered, "I've got a large group in that warehouse over there… and there…"

"Disengage." Kurt gestured for everyone to pull back and immediately radioed Patterson to get back in contact with the closest field office to bring a large force of armed back up as quickly as possible.

The team crept backwards but it was already too late… they had been focused towards the town and hadn't looked to the overgrown field and forest behind them. The group of Russian traffickers they had unknowingly stumbled upon, had been alerted to their presence as soon as their plane touched down.

They were outnumbered and surrounded within minutes.

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The team had been stripped of their weapons, bound, and manhandled through the warehouse into a large concrete room. Once the door slammed shut Weller turned and assessed everyone. "Everyone okay?"

Reade had a bleeding cut on his forehead, "I'm good, nothing serious."

Zapata looked a little worse for wear, "that guard was handsy, but I'm okay," her attention was on Jane.

Jane had been literally thrown into the cell by the guards after she savagely tackled the man who was searching Zapata a little too intimately for weapons. Her cheek was swollen but she hid it behind a curtain of hair and nodded, "I'm fine."

Weller reasserted control, "Okay, they will be back soon. We just have to stall them until backup arrives; it shouldn't be too long. What do we know about them?"

"This warehouse is full of crates, they must be transporting illegal goods," Reade offered.

"They speak Russian," Jane added.

"Traffickers," Zapata spat out, "Great…"

They heard footsteps and quickly shuffled together as the door was unlocked. A brutish, dark haired man lead three others into the room. "So FBI, it is time for a little talk" he snarled in heavily accented English. The hulking men ruthlessly used their rifles to herd the team into a line. They were chained to the wall with stiff shackles bolted into the cement.

The leader paced in front of the team. He gestured to their bound figures but spoke in Russian to his men. It looked like the traffickers were deciding what to do with them- and they looked entirely too pleased with their decision.

"You will tell us, how you found us." the leader began, "You will tell us who is the rat who sold us out and maybe we will kill you quickly — whoever speaks the truth may even live."

As the leader spoke a henchman strode up to Weller and slammed the butt of his rifled into his stomach. A gasp escaped his mouth but he remained stoic and faced forward. "We aren't telling you anything," he spat out.

Weller watched as the guard raised his gun again, the Russian's eyes glittered with anticipation as he prepared to strike violently at Weller's head. Kurt's eyes met the leader in silent battle. But the blow never landed - he looked over, Jane had begun to speak tauntingly in Russian. What the HELL was she doing?

The Traffickers focused on Jane. She had finished talking but her chin was jutted out stubbornly and her expression boldly stared down the leader. Kurt had no idea what she said, but it made the Russians furious. One of them grabbed her by the throat and flung her to the floor. Jane recovered quickly and laughed chokingly before speaking to the leader again; her tone was definitely, dangerously mocking.

Weller tried to step forward, "Jane, stop… JANE!" but one of the men shoved him back and pointed his gun at his face.

Two of the men grabbed Jane and unlocked her chains before stripping off her leather jacket. They tied her hands together with rope and attached them to a large hook hanging from the ceiling. Weller's stomach began to sink and he began to sweat. Nothing good can come from this. Oh God, backup better get here soon. "Jane, focus on us, it will be okay."

They cranked the hook until Jane dangled with her toes barely touching the floor. Kurt looked at his team. The leader and one other man began to circle her and cackle in Russian. They pulled her hair and ghosted their fingers along her face but she only glared at them before spitting out a final comment in Russian.

The leader snapped his fingers and one of the guards tore at her long-sleeve shirt until it fell to the floor in tatters. She still wore a sports bra - but she… Oh God, Jane! What happened to her?

The guards gaped at Jane's tattoos but the team couldn't tear their eyes away from Jane's exposed torso. Kurt could almost count all her ribs; she was muscle and little else — her stomach was so concave it made his chest ache.

Her emaciated form would have been bad enough but her body was also covered in large florid bruises - a rainbow of colours that flooded behind her tattoos. Weller heard Zapata swear in Spanish as she took in Jane's hanging form; Reade looked sick.

Kurt looked to Jane's face, searching for an answer, a clue as to how this happened but there was nothing. Her eyes met his and for a moment they glistened with emotion before they shuttered and became vacant. It was like the life had slipped from her body in a blink. His mouth felt like cotton.

The traffickers soon got over their shock and gleefully got into their task. Using lengths of chain and sticks they began to beat on Jane's defenceless body. As they struck they yelled questions at her in Russian but she remained silent — too silent for this kind of attack. Weller struggled helplessly - the shackles were too tight and blood ran freely down his fingers...

Jane let out the occasional grunt but she remained eerily detached from the violence descending on her person. He almost wept for joy when he heard the sound of helicopters that signalled that help had arrived.

The traffickers stopped their attack and began to swear. When their backs were turned, it was like a switch had been flipped in Jane - her body jack-knifed and her legs wrapped tightly around one of the guards shoulders; she jerked roughly and snapped his neck. Once he fell, she kicked another in the back of the head and he collapsed unconscious. The leader fled the room.

They were left in temporary silence. All Kurt could do — no — all the team could do, was stare, horrified, at Jane... as she dangled, helpless and abused, from the hook until help arrived.

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Yay, a little bit longer... and the angst continues...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - I was so excited by Blindspot Wednesday that it inspired me to get this out quicker than I thought. My writing pace isn't exactly predictable but I have some clear ideas for the next few chapters at least, and I know how I want it to end. I also have the weekend off, so hopefully I can fire another chapter out soon.

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Chapter 3

Willing Sacrifice

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It was all a bit of a blur. Whenever she escaped to that place in her mind, people and surroundings were all at once sharp and vague. She remembered an FBI agent untying her hands and handing her back her jacket. In her mind, Kurt's face appeared in glorious technicolour, he had wrapped her so tenderly in a blanket — his eyes were so kind and the gruff timbre of his voice was soothing.

STUPID Jane! She gave herself a mental slap upside the head. Fantasizing only made everything harder on herself.

Jane tried to concentrate on her safe place in order to keep the pain at bay but it was difficult. The plane kept hitting turbulence; it made her mind jump and her muscles clench which sent electric darts of pain throughout her body.

The team was staring at her and she was determined not to look at them. Whatever they are talking about didn't concern her and never would. Jane gritted her teeth; she would get through this without them.

Her meditations began to work. Muscles began to relax as Jane's mind began to disengage from her surroundings. Her eyes remained open and distant but her hands loosened their death grip on the armrests. She didn't notice the concerned looks from the team or Weller slowly making his way over to the seat across from hers.

She didn't notice, that is, until he lifted his arm to hand her some ice packs. She couldn't help it, she flinched back and gasped in pain when her back and head hit the seat behind her. Her arms raised defensively and her eyes darted to his face. His face… did he look worried? Or hurt? She averted her eyes to the left; she didn't want to hope for more than she should expect.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she took the icepack and looked out the window to give him an easier exit.

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She almost thought she was hallucinating from the pain when she heard him settle more comfortably into the seat. He didn't leave. Why didn't he leave? He's barely tolerated her proximity for weeks, why stop now? Her stomach began to sink and she worked to keep her breathing even for the sake of her ribs. _I don't know if I can cope with anything more right now._

"Jane," he leaned over to catch her attention, "We need to talk about what happened." His tone was professional but his hands were tense on the armrests.

"What do you need to know?" she took a bracing breath. He clearly just wanted to debrief; Weller was just doing due diligence as team leader. He probably had a stack of paperwork to sign off on and needed her to fill in what she had interpreted from the traffickers' conversations. "I can have a translated version of what I heard the Russians say on your desk by tomorrow…"

"NO! You need to rest…" He paused and waited until I met his piercing blue eyes, "Why did you catch the Russians' attention? Why did you want them to single you out?"

Jane cringed, she couldn't believe he was actually going to make her verbalize it. Surely he knew… surely they all knew why she had done it, it was painfully obvious. She shifted her gaze determinedly over his right shoulder - it was easier than looking to his eyes.

She schooled her features into a professional mask. Be calm, keep it short and factual.

"I was the logical candidate to be tortured. I was the best prepared to deal with anything they might do. I am the most expendable person on the team and I doubt anyone would feel too much concern for me." It was obvious. "Besides, you said we needed to stall them until help arrived… so I did."

He bit back a curse and was silent. His aggravated knuckle cracks flinched her back into the present. Jane's eyes unwittingly met Weller's - they were blazing blue. His brow was furrowed and jaw clenched tightly. He looked upset and she couldn't figure out why.

"Jane, you are not expendable and you should not have taken that risk - you could have gotten yourself killed"

She couldn't help it; her mouth twisted into a bitter smile, "Come on, that wouldn't be the worst thing. It would have been worse if someone else had gotten hurt when I could have taken the hit."

No one would miss her, she was working to destroy the last vestiges of her family and then she could stop forcing her presence where it wasn't wanted. Jane was surprised by Zapata's audible gasp and looked over to see Reade's ashen expression. Her head tilted sideways — curious reactions… she knew they abhorred her presence almost as much as Weller did.

She looked back at Weller, his face was red and his eyes were wide, shocked almost. She had made him mad... again. She should have just kept her mouth shut - her input just made everyone upset. Jane looked back out the window.

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"Jane, that's not right. You don't really think that do you? No one wants you to get hurt." His voice was rough.

"It's okay, I can take it"

She shrunk back as he grabbed her hand. "Jane, we couldn't help but notice that you are… thinner than… before. And there were bruises all over you…"

She stared down at their clasped hands. This was the first time he had voluntarily, purposefully touched her since… before… his hands were warm and rough. They were gentle, not like when he handcuffed her but like when he had held her face and kissed her… _STOP. Don't go there. Don't remember what you can't have. He never wanted her, anyway, he wanted Taylor_. Her mind itched for the release of pain and she quietly dug her elbows into her screaming ribs.

"Jane, do you need help?" he persisted.

"Don't worry about it, Weller, it hasn't altered my effectiveness in the field. I eat when I'm hungry and maybe I was too rough in my last sparring session. It's nothing." He didn't have to worry, the pain kept her focused anyway.

"I'm not worried about your work performance right now, Jane," his voice boomed, "I am concerned about you." His grip tightened painfully and she jerked her trembling hand away.

"Why?" she had just told him that it didn't affect work at all. Jane thought her efforts the past few weeks should speak for themselves.

"Why?" he sat back hard, stunned, "How can you… What do you…" He looked her up and down like he couldn't recognize her. Jane understood that look; she often saw it reflected back in the mirror each morning. She missed his hands - they were warm and she was so cold... so cold…

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"Jane!"

She snapped to attention. Ouch.

"We already told Patterson what happened. She's sent an ambulance to meet us at the hangar so that they assess you. I am going to make sure that they give you a full once over to make sure everything is okay."

"I'm fine. Really. I don't want an ambulance." Jane couldn't stop the shudder. She didn't want strangers touching her, Jane didn't think she could handle any more today.

"Jane. I don't care what you want, you were brutally beaten and you will be checked over. That is final." His eyes bored into her, demanding concession.

She nodded and looked away. It's his job to take of the people under his command. He was just doing his job. Just suck it up and then you can go home to your empty apartment and compartmentalize this day into a tiny box where you never have to think about it again. Shit, tonight's nightmares are going to be brutal.

Jane could still see Kurt in her peripheral vision; he hadn't moved and he was still staring. He wasn't blinking, its like he was trying to read her mind. What more could he want from her? Maybe he is felt some misplaced obligation to sit here because she had been injured... ?

Jane look at him warily before quietly whispering, "There's nothing more you can do… you don't have to sit with me. I know you would rather debrief with your team." she subtly jerked her chin towards Reade and Zapata and even offer a half smile so that he would leave her in peace.

But his reaction is strange. It was his turn to flinch and her turn to look confused. What had she done wrong this time? He slowly got up and left. His face, its…STOP. His face was none of her business.

She settled back and quietly find a safe place in her mind. Pain is a dream. The plane is a dream. The turbulence is a dream. The urgent and hushed whispers from across the plane are a dream. Kurt's hands are a dream too.

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A/N: Thankyou to the kind reviewer who pointed out my editing issues in the last chapter - I have hopefully fixed it. I am so embarrassed, it is painfully obvious that I took a mental break between writing the first and last half of that chapter whoops. Where is the editing fairy when you need her? Lol.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - I really appreciate you awesome reviews guys, and I got some really interesting feedback on my Sandstorm mole theory which has my brain going in so many directions *yikes*. Anyways, I'm back with my longest chapter yet, Happy Canadian Thanksgiving :)

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Chapter 4

A Plan of Attack

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Kurt buzzed with conflicting emotions; confusion, anger, shame and compassion all rioted for priority. Why did Jane risk herself so blatantly? What the hell happened to her? Why would she sacrifice herself for a team that only showed her the barest civility?….

How was it that he didn't realize how much she still meant to him, until he almost lost her?

Kurt had been full of righteous concern. He had planned to confront her on the plane calmly. They were supposed to be a team and Jane was acting like a one-woman crusader and he was going to nip it in the bud. He was going to get an explanation for her shrunken, battered body; an explanation that Weller prayed would help him get the horrifying image out of his mind…

That was the plan.

The plan got shot to hell when Jane started talking.

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Weller's calm gait belied the crazed swirl of thoughts circling his brain. He couldn't even… the things that she said… her face… her voice… Bile burned the back of his throat as he collapsed into his seat.

Kurt didn't even bother looking at his team — he knew they had overheard the conversation —Instead he hunched over and palmed his face as he tried to come to grips with everything.

Kurt had thought Jane had been working so hard and risking so much in order to redeem herself to the team. But he was wrong… so ineffably wrong. She was putting her life on the line because she thought she was "expendable." Jane valued their lives over her own; she seemed shocked that he was even concerned for her. And the tone she had used to rationalize her actions… like risking her life for them was an obvious fact.

And the way Jane had flinched back from him… Once, they had been as close as anything, she had trusted him more than anyone… God! They had kissed!…

And now she fled from his touch like she actually believed he would hit her. Had he hurt her so badly that she believed him capable of that? Was she so damaged that she expected pain from everyone… even him. Jane hadn't even been able to believe that he would willingly sit next to her for more than a few minutes.

Kurt hadn't begun fathomed how much he still cared about her, how much he missed they way they were… before — not until this horrible sinking feeling that she was slipping through his fingers.

He had to fix this! He was going to fix this right now.

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 _Zapata's POV_

We were family once - this team. We were the only family Jane had and she kind of imprinted on us like a baby duck. But while she had lied to them, they had completely abandoned her. Now who did Jane have?

Tasha still thought that Jane had a lot to do with Mayfair's death. But the time had come to admit that Jane would never have willingly killed Mayfair; it would have been like killing her own family member.

Over the last few weeks, She had let Jane carry the entire burden of guilt, she had never let an opportunity pass to let venom spew out of her mouth at Jane or about her. But Tasha had never anticipated how literally Jane would internalize the blame.

Jane had helped her today — she has helped her a lot lately, actually — she has shoved her out of the way of bullets, covered her ass in shoot outs, killed people that were going to kill her. And today, Jane let herself get tortured without any thought to her own cost. She was ready to die…too ready to die… It wasn't right.

You may not like what they do, but you can't choose your family.

It was time to put this family back together.

Besides, Weller's going to need all the help he can get.

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 _Reade's POV_

They were friends once…. before Mayfair. It had taken him a while, but Reade had respected Jane's skill and determination — she had been a good team mate.

Since she came back, things were different. She was forced on them and he joined in the taunting and the cruelty — it made them feel like a team… the team vs. her.

It was easy… it helped them cope.

When Jane came back— he could see she was a pawn sent to be sacrificed by both sides of this war. He just never thought that she would embrace that role so effectively.

He never thought about how sad it actually made him, until he realized that he had almost lost his friend… that he may still lose Jane… it looked like she had been punishing herself pretty harshly. Too harshly.

It was time that he started acting like a friend.

Besides, Weller's going to lose his shit.

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Kurt could see that Zapata and Reade were still wrapped up in their own thoughts — but they needed to talk. He couldn't help but feel that the situation with Jane was time-sensitive - her allusions to death were… eerily accepting.

"Tasha, Reade," he looked at them both in turn. There was no point in tiptoeing around the subject, "We need to talk about today and Jane."

He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "Our team hasn't been working like a team since Jane got back. I blinded myself to the warning signs because I wasn't ready to deal with them; I wasn't ready to deal with… her. How do you want to proceed from today?… Be honest because I want this to be a unified decision."

Reade started, "It's time to start acting like a team — but it's going to be hard to rebuild that trust though, on both sides."

Tasha continued, "I haven't been handling Mayfair's death very well and, I guess, I didn't want to take into account how Jane must have been feeling all these weeks. We were the only family she had before… I want to help her; I want to help us move forward."

Kurt spoke fiercely, "Good, we are agreed, " his expression resolute.

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Zapata and Reade disembarked from the plane wearily - Kurt had gestured for them to go ahead but they waited at the bottom of the stairs to see if Jane needed any help. Careful not to startle her (again), he slowly made his way to her seat and held his hand out for her to take.

She paused and looked at his hand warily. Kurt's heart clenched, she didn't even trust him to take his hand.

"I'm fine," Jane muttered defensively.

He moved his hand closer and teasingly, wiggled his fingers. "You will be fine" he tried to smile, "Because I am escorting you to the medics myself."

Jane sighed in acquiescence, took his hand and let him help her to her feet; but she dropped it as soon as she was able. Weller fought the urge to take her hand again, but he knew he couldn't push her too far too fast. It was sad to think that taking Jane's hand might be pushing her too far.

Taking a deep breathe Kurt followed her out of the plane - his body alert and ready to catch her if she fell. As he walked behind Jane, it was difficult not to stare at her body - to search for what had once been unnoticed.

Now that he knew what to look for, Kurt could see Jane's thin wrists peaking out from her sleeves, how loose her jacket sat on her shoulders and how tightly she had cinched the belt on her hips.

Sighing gently Kurt caught up with Jane and the team at the bottom of the stairs. He gave them a firm nod and then gestured Jane toward the waiting ambulance.

She turned to him pleadingly - silently begging him to not make her go — but he would not let this slide, not anymore. "Come on Jane, the sooner you get over there, the sooner they will finish. Do you want me to come with…"

"NO!… I mean, no thank you. I can make it," she walked stiffly over to the medics. He made sure she arrived safely before he joined Zapata and Reade a few feet away.

Before he could say a word Zapata leaned in, "Jane's shaking really bad."

"What?" Kurt spun around and prepared to rush over when she grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back. "Hey!"

"She is already freaked out, you charging over there won't help. Besides, I don't think our presence is going to make her feel more relaxed, do you?"

"No, but —"

"Come on, man," Reade offered sympathetically, "Wait here with us."

Weller didn't like it, but it made sense. They had neglected Jane for so long that if they started hovering anxiously around her now, it would only confuse her. It may even have a more negative effect on her after such a traumatic day. But — he didn't like it one bit. They subtly shifted their position tangent to the ambulance so that they could observe without notice. It was achingly difficult to watch every time Jane recoiled violently from the medics' probing care - but Kurt managed… barely.

They waited within earshot - pathetically pretending that they were doing anything but eavesdropping. And It didn't sound good.

Kurt clenched his fists and fought the urge to punch something when he heard the sympathetic tones of the paramedics who were concerned about cracked ribs, internal bleeding and potential complications. When Jane resisted their insistent demands that she return with them to the hospital for x-rays and an overnight stay - Reade and Zapata each had to forcefully grab an arm to prevent him from joining the argument.

"She's too emotional for an hysterical outburst from you, Weller," Zapata hissed.

But the worst part was when the paramedics settled her into the ambulance bed. They offered to fetch one of her team members to come with her to the hospital and she responded, "No! They wouldn't want… they'll just say… please, please don't bother anyone."

And so the ambulance left — Jane was gone.

They couldn't even look at each other for shame.

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Weller had let Tasha talk him into waiting until the next morning to visit Jane in the hospital. They would all go in together and try to impress upon Jane how concerned they were about her and how they cared about her well-being. A united front of support.

Lying in his bed, the idea now felt like a load of crap.

When the phone rang, Kurt was still wide awake. When he heard a nurse on the other line, he starting to dress and find his keys.

He arrived at the hospital in record time. He may have, possibly… broken a few traffic laws. It was a bit of a blur. All he could focus on was the urgency in the nurse's voice when she asked him, as Jane's emergency contact, to come down to the hospital because Jane was having a "difficult time." What the HELL did that mean?!

...

Weller stormed to the front desk and slammed down his badge as he demanded to speak to the doctor in charge of Jane's case. He may have scared the nurse a little bit, but results were results and no one got between him and his… well… Jane.

The doctor was blunt. Weller supposed that he appreciated that - but it was a bitter pill to swallow. The doctor started with her ribs. The x-rays had luckily shown no extreme problems but she was a risk for chest infection, pneumothorax, internal bleeding and a host of related complications.

She was malnourished… Her body was overworked… They were concerned about the origin of her bruising and asked whether she might be in an abusive relationship… Her x-rays had shown an alarming history of extensive damage…They suspected PTSD… She was sleep deprived…

The stream of issues buried themselves under his skin and Kurt struggled to keep his breathing regular. 'How had Jane hidden this? How had none of them seen it?'

Apparently Jane had been a difficult patient. She refused to let them to call anyone and she wanted to leave as soon as the x-rays were completed. But when her detail had shown up she simply stopped fighting. The exact words that the nursing staff used were that she "shut down." They cautiously added words like "unresponsive: and "catatonic."

The staff had assumed that Jane was an insomniac given her clear sleep deprivation - however, the nightmares soon proved to be the true cause.

The nightmares…

Kurt had tried to remain stone-faced during her diagnosis but when the talked about the nightmares his facade crumbled. The nurse told him, "One minute she was secure in her bed and the next she was screaming, convulsing and vomiting."When she relayed the story, the nurse's voice shook in horror. "We tried to calm her, but when staff came into the room to help she became very violent. The doctor was anxious that her agitated behaviour was dangerous to her injuries so they had her heavily sedated."

Out of concern for her current state and because they needed to discuss her at-home care, they overrode her wishes and called the emergency contact listed, Kurt Weller.

...

Jane was so quiet and still in her drugged slumber. He tenderly brushed a curl from her forehead and examined the dark circles under her eyes. Lately she always looked so serious and ferocious — now she looked… like a victim. Their victim.

God he was frustrated - he was a man of action and all he could do was sit there… sit there and hold her hand while she was too sedated to flinch away from him. Jane really was the most stubborn and brave woman that Kurt had ever met; she was beautiful and resilient. He missed her. He finally let himself miss her.

When she was Taylor, she had already had a place in his heart. But it was past time that he admitted that he had long learned to appreciate Jane for simply being Jane. He had been too late to save Taylor — but he could save Jane.

The doctor had insisted that Jane needed someone to help her for a few days — to make sure that she was eating regularly and avoided movements that would put dangerous pressure on her ribs. Kurt hadn't even paused — he let the doctor know that Jane would be coming home with him and that he would take care of her. He had called and left messages with Reade, Zapata and Patterson to let them know that he would be taking Jane home in the morning. She would stay in Sarah's room and he would have some peace of mind knowing that she was safe and nearby.

Kurt stroked her hand gently. He may not have agreed with how or why she did it - but for too long Jane had sacrificed herself to protect him. Now it was his turn to protect her - even if it was from herself.

The kid-gloves might have to come off…

...

* * *

A/N The angst is a main theme in this story - but there are some opportunities for some cute fluff in coming chapters. Let me know if you have any ideas.


	5. Chapter 5

So Weller's all determined to "fix" everything and he is going to go about it with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop…

...

* * *

...

Chapter 5

Tentative Truce

...

Jane's eyelids were so heavy that it took several attempts before they would open all the way. Her limbs felt like lead and her whole body throbbed, especially her torso. She looked around with growing concern, why was she in the hospital?

As she slowly flexed her arms and legs the memories trickled back to her… the mission… the plane ride… the hospital… another nightmare… sedation… Jane grimaced. Just another day in hell.

Weller walked into the room, "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

Jane's eyes blinked rapidly. Kurt? Did he see her when… oh please no. Surely, he didn't witness her nightly episode. That would be too humiliating; leave her too exposed. Jane forced herself to remain impassive. She could not afford to reveal herself to be anything but competent and able.

"I'm fine," Jane said cautiously, her tongue cumbersome in her dry mouth, "Good to go."

"Good, I already filled out the paperwork and the doctor is ready to discharge you, I'll go grab him." Weller seemed eager to leave. He couldn't be happy that he was designated to pick her up… where was her detail? She assumed that they would escort her as usual.

The doctor arrived with a flurry. He was full of brochures and strict instructions regarding pain medication, breathing exercises and activity restriction. He emphasized good nutrition and proper rest while giving her a long, pointed look. Jane hid her flushed face and quickly signed her papers. Her mind was already trying to work out how to remain a productive under such ridiculous restrictions. The only option was to disregard them - she knew her limitations and she could deal with the consequences.

As the doctor left, he paused to talk quietly to Kurt in the doorway. Jane groaned, Kurt had a wheelchair — damn hospital policy, she would not give him the satisfaction of wheeling her out in that thing."I don't need… that," she said with obvious distaste.

Kurt didn't skip a beat and his voice rumbled forcefully, "Jane, get. in. the. chair." She clenched her jaw to bite back a retort but folded her arms obstinately. "Jane, we both want to get out of here, let's just comply and leave."

Jane's shoulders sagged and she bit back a wince. Of course, he viewed her as an inconvenience; she was holding them up unnecessarily. Stripped of any emotion she gave him a curt nod. They are both probably horrendously late to the office. She slid her jacket on over the scrubs they had given her and stiffly lowered herself into the chair.

...

* * *

...

The car ride was mostly silent. It was normal; the team preferred silence to chit chat — at least with her. It wasn't long, however, until Jane noticed that they weren't driving towards the FBI office. Tentatively she asked, "Weller, aren't we going to work? I am ready to fill out the necessary paperwork after this last mission…"

The leather steering wheel crackled under his hands but Weller remained silent as Jane watched and waited for his response.

Her question was answered when Kurt pulled onto a familiar street and parked in front of her safe house. Not wanting to encumber him any further, Jane opened her door and stepped out, "Thank you for the ride — I will just get changed and I will meet you at the office, you don't have to wait."

Jane turned to go up the steps but froze when she heard Weller's car door open, then shut, and his shoes crunch up behind her. He brushed his body against hers as he unlocked and opened the door for her.

She stood there rigidly for a few seconds — In the last 24 hours Jane had gotten more physical contact from Weller, than all the last weeks combined; it was odd. Jane was certain she hadn't changed, and this last mission felt like any other, so why the abnormal behaviour?

...

Weller was waiting for her when she entered the house, "Jane, you are not going back to work today. You are injured and your body needs rest."

She started to argue but he raised his hand to silence her, "Now, we are going to pack some clothes and anything you need and I am taking you back to my place to recuperate."

His tone brooked no argument and she struggled to find an appropriate response. Honestly, Jane was stunned. This was the last thing she expected him to say. She tried to wrap her mind around the concept of his house… with him… alone… This couldn't be a good idea. She needed to work, it was her purpose — her only purpose.

"Weller, no,— I have been through worse and I can take care of myself. You don't have to accommodate me… I won't burden you like that."

But she was talking to his back - he had already started walking through the house. "WELLER?! You can't make that decision for me! I don't want to go with you!"

Kurt's face was fierce as he turned around — he strode back toward her. "If you want a choice, Jane, you can either go back to the hospital or you can come home with me."

The fire diminished and his eyes softened. "It will be fine, Jane." Weller reached up to touch her face but she jolted backwards awkwardly — she couldn't help the reflex. He sighed and turned around to resume his journey through her safe house.

She gritted her teeth - he was so BOSSY and heavy handed it made her want to slap his arrogant face. Was it worth it to argue? Was it worth it to upset the delicate state of their working relationship… Jane groaned internally and plodded behind him. She could survive one day.

Weller explored her sparse space as Jane stacked her meagre clothing and toiletries in a canvas backpack. He lifted the slight bag easily and then paused to look around her empty bedroom. "Jane, where's the rest of your stuff?"

"That's all of it" she nodded towards the backpack.

"But —"

"All my old stuff was taken when I was arrested and there's no point in collecting things that I don't need." Jane didn't like explaining this to him. The way she lived her life wasn't his business anymore - he had made sure of that. Why did Weller suddenly start to care now… when it was too late. Besides, he should be pleased that she was so focused on her mission.

Jane silently held out her hands for her bag but Kurt slung it over his shoulder. "You're not supposed to carry anything heavy." Jane rolled her eyes. Yeah, let's see how long that lasts…

"Why do you have all this equipment in your living room?" Kurt queried.

"It's important to stay focused and well-trained if I want to stop Sandstorm." She stared at the equipment. Jane didn't know how to explain that physical training exorcised the nightly demons and her own sins. Once Kurt might have understood, now, however, she expected he wouldn't give a damn.

Weller attempted small talk on the drive to his apartment - but Jane kept her responses short and non-committal. She was too busy theorizing why Weller was making her move to his apartment.

Jane had narrowed it down to two options: either her injuries required her to stay with someone and he wouldn't foist her burdensome self off on anyone else out of duty or her behaviour recently had roused further distrust and Weller felt compelled to keep a closer eye on her.

Either way - she knew he couldn't suffer her presence for too long and she should be back at her safe house by tomorrow. Strangely, he had caught him looking at her several times, and it wasn't the usual look of disdain — it was almost… friendly. Unsettling.

...

* * *

...

Jane sat down carefully on Sarah's bed and Weller placed her small bag on a nearby desk.

He shuffled his feet nervously before pulling a chair to sit in front of her. "Jane…" Kurt started, "I've been trying to work out how to say this all day… I want to apologize for how I've treated you since you came back. We were all very shocked by your behaviour yesterday and it made us — it made me, realize how difficult things have been for you. We talked about it, and we want to earn back your trust so that we can get back to the team we used to be." His face was open as he leaned forward imploringly and grasped her hand.

Jane swallowed nervously; he had been so kind to her today, it was almost like a dream. But, even in her wildest fantasies she had never dared imagine a conversation where HE apologized to HER - it had to be real. But it didn't make sense.

"Jane?"

He was clearly delusional, "You have nothing to apologize for, I'm the one who made all the mistakes and trusted the wrong person. I betrayed my team and Mayfair died. I understand my place in the team and I accept it."

Kurt's voice was gruff with emotion, "No, Jane. We didn't treat you fairly - you were the easiest person to blame and we were merciless. I'm ashamed of how I've acted. You never intended— we should have tried to empathize. Things are going to get better." He squeezed her hands reassuringly and stood, "I know it's a lot to process — you should rest."

"Oh," Weller paused sheepishly in the doorway, "There's a new sketchbook and pencils on the desk to give you something to do when you're bored and I'm making lunch," He ducked out.

Jane stared down at her hands as his pleas echoed in her ears. After a few minutes she moved towards the desk and skittishly reached toward the book. Jane was certain it would disappear, that all of this would disappear. Weller had said kind things. Perfect things. Crazy things. Why? It was like her entire world had tilted on its axis and everything was upside down.

Weller said that things would get better — given her experience, she wasn't naive enough to accept that — but Jane yearned to trust him so badly, so badly that her heart ached.

 _Wait and see_ , Jane, she pressed her fists firmly _into her stomach, no matter what the truth is, you have to stay strong and focus on your mission_. She tried to concentrate on her priorities, but her eyes couldn't look away from the clean, fresh page in front of her.

...

* * *

...

When Jane walked into the kitchen for lunch she was surprised to find a place set for both of them at the table. Weller ladled vegetable soup into both of their bowls and placed a large turkey sandwich on both of their plates before sitting down. He looked at her expectantly until she sat down too.

"Is there anything else you need, Jane?" he asked.

"No." Jane hadn't eaten this much food since… before. It wasn't that she didn't want to eat, it was just difficult.

Because of her nightmares Jane usually threw up whatever she managed for dinner and she found it difficult to stomach anything for breakfast so soon afterwards. She tried to eat a decent lunch - but tension at the NYO made it difficult to relax, let alone eat. Her stomach had shrunk. She found it easier to eat small snacks as regularly as possible - not large meals. How was she going to navigate this? Jane didn't want to insult his efforts or cause unnecessary questions.

As if he realized how uncomfortable she was, Weller opened up the newspaper to read while he ate. "Would you like a section of the paper?" he was being polite.

Jane breathed a sigh of relief, "Yes, please — anything you don't want."

Jane propped up the Current Events around her dishes, settled nervously in her chair and picked at the meal. She managed a quarter of the sandwich and a third of the soup; her stomach was full to the brim. Glancing up carefully she observed that Weller still seemed intent on the Sports section. Silently Jane moved to clear her dishes and package the food for later.

"Jane" — She paused.

"That's not enough to keep a bird alive, wouldn't you like to eat more?" Although phrased like a request, the command resounded like a gong in her head.

Damn it, he had been watching her. "It was delicious, Weller. I can finish it later," she attempted nonchalance.

"Wait please, Jane, the doctor said you were malnourished. Eat a little more." He was watching her attentively. Of course, Mr. Responsible would insist on following the doctor's instructions. Jane analyzed the situation; she couldn't afford to show any weakness, she needed Weller to believe she was a capable member of the team— maybe she could force a couple more bites.

She placed her dishes back on the table… Starting with the soup, Jane took a few small spoonfuls to pacify him. Despite her efforts, his eyebrows were still raised expectantly. She moved to the sandwich, took a bite, and chewed and chewed and chewed… and swallowed. Her stomach churned and rose… oh no… no no no — her face blanched she bolted from the table.

Mindless of her ribs Jane hurled herself down to hug the toilet, and vomited. Her sides burned — SHIT! - but it couldn't be helped. She braced her knees against the porcelain as her stomach retched painfully; and all she could do was hug her torso until the bout ended. She had forgotten about Kurt until she felt him pull her hair away from her face.

In between dry heaves she to tried to explain but he hushed her soothingly. He rumbled against her spine, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you." Kurt handed her a clothe and gently stroked her lower back, "Everything's okay."

Her whole body ached, her face was flushed with sweat and she was pretty certain she had vomit in her hair — but he cradled her body in his arms and she loathed herself because she didn't want this moment to end.

...

* * *

...

Later, the team came over with pizza and beer for dinner, like old times; Patterson even brought a few board games. The familiar energy of hanging out with the team made her feel nostalgic.

At first, Jane blended quietly into the background, not sure if they truly intended to include her, after all it was Weller's home.

To her utter surprise (and dismay), Patterson, Reade and Tasha each managed to corner her at one point to earnestly apologize and ask after her well-being. She responded to their apologies with her own — it was awkward but kind. Clearly though, it was an organized team tactic, she just had to figure out the endgame.

In spite of Jane's reluctance they all tried to draw her in the game and conversation. They joked and cajoled her into cracking a smile or two.

At one point, Jane and the girls were chatting in the kitchen when Kurt candidly dropped a bomb in the conversation. "Tasha, Patterson — Jane needs to go shopping."

Jane cringed, how embarrassing to have your boss order your co-workers to hang out with you. She tried to brush it off but regardless her discomfort, the word "shopping" had set off Patterson and Tasha. They eagerly made plans for a Girls' Night. She blamed the alcohol.

She nibbled at a piece of pizza — though Reade had urged her to eat more until Weller subtly put an end to it— and Kurt refused to allow her to drink because it could have an adverse affect on her pain medication, so Jane drank water. He was being so overprotective. She was overtly annoyed and glared at him; deep down she tried not to secretly relish in it.

...

* * *

...

Then the night came.

Jane was grateful for the obtrusive sedation at the hospital because those extra hours of sleep gave her the strength to stay awake. And she was adamant to stay awake. The vomiting situation was mortifying enough, she could not cope with Weller learning more details of her nightmares too; not until she understood his motivation.

Jane settled herself at the desk to take advantage of the sketchbook and soundlessly meditated on her mantra.

 _She was a survivor, a soldier - she knew her duty.  
Persevere. __Never show weakness.  
Develop a sense of purpose so that you can persist when things get tough.  
_ _Be silent; don't cause problems.  
_ _Cover up your personal inadequacies by excelling at your job.  
_ _Don't trust anyone - they will hurt you.  
_ _If you are broken and bleeding - shut up and bind your own wounds because you can only count on yourself.  
_ _Most importantly - you're alone._

But memories from today kept interrupting her quiet chant. Flashes of apologies, conversation, kindness, smiles and Kurt's arms… they were in direct denial of what she had grown to depend on as normal.

She posited that this was a new FBI ploy, probably orchestrated by Nas, to assure her allegiance to their cause. But Jane couldn't help it, her battered heart revelled in the companionship of her team; she craved this newfound camaraderie like water in a desert.

If it was false, then she knew it would be of short duration. Jane debated it for hours, she decided she would enjoy it while it lasted. A small taste of happiness. After all, the worst had already happened and she had survived it once — she could do it again. She didn't have anything to lose.

As the hours crept by Jane created images in her book - beautiful, detailed portraits of the team and menacing manifestations from her memories and nightmares. A disjointed depiction of her current state of mind.

Dawn crept into the room and lit up Jane's tired features — she outlasted another night.

...

* * *

...

I just have to say that all your reviews are so uplifting. This is my first real story on fan fiction and I was pretty nervous, but now I am super excited.

I will absolutely finish this story — but I am already looking ahead to new ideas.

I have this new story that I can't get out of my head — it's a little out of the box but I'm excited.

And I am really inspired to write with these characters so if anyone wants to suggest some prompts (or tell me where to find some) I would love to try my hand at something different.


	6. Chapter 6: Part 1

A/N: This chapter just became so long that I had to divide it into 2 parts; there was just too much to develop from Kurt's perspective. The second part will be posted very soon, but I wanted to give you guys another chapter rather than make you wait until everything was done.

The first part has a few sweet moments of over-protective Kurt — the second part will be very emotional and will include what a lot of you guys have been requesting in your reviews. Hopefully it will meet expectations.

…

* * *

...

Chapter 6: Part 1

Actions Speak Louder than Words

...

Kurt was up early the next morning. As he waited for the coffee to brew, Kurt settled on his couch and quietly drummed his fingers on the table. All night long he analyzed and reanalyzed the day before.

Looking at it from all angles Weller realized, with disappointment, that it had not gone as well as he'd hoped. He had been so emotional and obsessed and, well, sleep deprived. As a result, he had bullied Jane into staying with him and he had barely been able to verbalize his apology.

He grimaced; communication had never been his strong suit and he had forgotten how even everyday conversations with Jane always became deeper… meant more. He sighed, if he had felt less, maybe he could have explained better.

Moreover, Kurt had pressured Jane into eating so much that she vomited. Despite his deep-felt regret that he had caused her more pain, he couldn't deny what he felt in those short moments when he held Jane in his arms. The universe had come into focus. All his senses were tuned to the beautiful, trembling, vulnerable woman that had become the centre of Kurt's world in that split second. The scent of her skin, the spill of her black curls and the delicate curve of her spine against his chest— he hadn't wanted that moment to end. Kurt palmed his face harshly, 'God, he needed help. Serious help.'

Weller slumped his elbows on the table and fisted his hair. Thus far he had commanded instead of requested Jane's cooperation. He was a fool if he imagined that would fly for another day. Jane was too strong-willed and independent to allow him to order her around in her personal life for much longer. Weller suspected, the only reason he had done credibly well yesterday, was because she was so taken aback by the turn-around in his behaviour.

Kurt was in for the fight of his life when Jane figured out that he expected her to live with him until she was recovered. He felt a smile sneak up his face — it would almost be worth it, to see Jane all fired up.

A car back-fired on the street below and he regained focus. Kurt had a new game plan: food, necessities and bonding.

After the lunch-time debacle, Kurt had researched and called the hospital to get a better food plan. High calorie meal shakes and frequent snacks were what the doctor ordered. Already this morning he had stopped by the market for supplies.

Jane needed… things. Her apartment was empty and impersonal. He could see the deeper rationale — she didn't want to invest in her life here with the FBI, she wanted an easy exit. Kurt needed to make it as hard as possible for her to leave him— THEM. He planned to anchor Jane to this team with a home. Hopefully, Tasha and Patterson could help.

Last night Kurt was certain that the team all got an opportunity to voice an apology or show some sincere interest in Jane as a friend. He sighed out loud, however, when he remembered the deer-in-headlights look on her face even if she masked it quickly. They had definitely overwhelmed her. Also, a few pretty words weren't enough; frankly, they would have to prove their loyalty and sincerity with actions.

Time to put the plan in motion; he wouldn't fail her again

...

Every time Kurt had awoken that night - he strained his ears towards the guest room. Not a sound. He surmised that Jane slept and it had comforted him to know that her slumber was peaceful. However, when Jane crept awkwardly into the kitchen the next morning, her wan face pale and shadowed in the morning sun, he realized she hadn't slept a wink. Disappointment cramped in his gut and curdled his morning coffee.

Swearing silently, Kurt placed a meal shake, a pain pill and a cup of coffee on the table. "Morning Jane, sleep well?"

"Hmmm the bed was very comfortable," Jane murmured noncommittally. Liar.

What was so terrible that she avoided sleep? Why didn't Jane want him to know about her nightmares? Perhaps he should ask Patterson or Nas to look further into her time with the CIA. Kurt's gaze drifted over Jane's fatigued figure; if he going to help Jane he needed more information, and she didn't seem eager to oblige.

Deep entrenched in his thoughts his eyes unintentionally lingered on Jane. She had wrapped her hands gratefully around the coffee cup and leaned back against the counter to sip deeply. Her eyes shut to savour the taste and her long lashes fluttered delicately against her— 'Get a GRIP, Kurt, It's not like you've never seen Jane before,' he gathered his thoughts and wandered out of the room to collect his what he needed for work.

The morning routine was short and simple. Kurt urged Jane to drink the shake and tried not to hover too much as he clocked her progress out of the corner of his eye. Kurt filled the air with friendly chatter about Sarah and Sawyer, the weather, and his plans for the day. "Please don't push yourself at the office, Jane. I'm only bringing you with me to fill in some paperwork for the case and for your session with Borden," he emphasized that last bit. Now, more than ever, Jane needed some time with the therapist.

Jane wrinkled her nose at his request but otherwise didn't push the issue and even inquired about Sawyer. Victory; he savoured a silent air-punch in his mind.

The fall day was cool and crisp when he ushered Jane out the door. Kurt noticed, as they got to the vehicle, that she carried her backpack of clothes. Jane had assumed she was going back to her safe house after work. His fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel; Jane looked exhausted and tense as she clamoured into the passenger's seat. He didn't want to start the day with a fight. It would keep until later.

…

* * *

...

They strode off of the elevator together into the bullpen and Kurt couldn't help but observe several agents look up and stare at Jane. Apparently word had gotten around about the mission. He shot a glance at Jane, she looked aware but unconcerned. She was probably used to the stares… but he wasn't. Weller glared at the few rookies that dared meet his gaze and promised them retribution.

Kurt tugged Jane into a side alcove and gazed furtively into her confused eyes. "Would you like to fill out the paperwork in my office, it would be more private."

"Nothing about my life is private, Weller," she grinned wryly, "Don't worry, I'm fine."

Fine. He hated that word.

"Remember what I said— no heavy lifting, try to rest… and don't forget to eat regularly or take your pain medication." Before Jane could argue Kurt pressed a packed lunch into her hands. She rolled her eyes and half-hearted tried to return it; but he raised his hands innocently and refused to take back the parcel.

Weller watched Jane walk through the bullpen to find her desk. It was like the parting of the Red Sea as agents scattered out of her way. He waited until he saw Jane settled comfortably at her desk before he texted Patterson to meet him in Nas's office.

…

Weller needed to impress upon these women the seriousness of his request. "We need to know more about the three months Jane spent with the CIA. That time changed her— damaged her. Go through proper channels or break the rules, I don't care. I need answers."

Patterson bobbed her head readily, her blue eyes full of concern and an eagerness to assist.

Nas, on the other hand, had reservations. "Weller, breaching another agency's information system is a conflict of inter-agency cooperation not to mention a breach in Jane's trust. If she wanted you to know what happened, she would have told you."

Kurt slowly turned a steely glare on Nas, his voice hard and clipped, "If you want to keep using Jane like your own personal sacrificial lamb then you better take a better interest in her well-being. You will do this…" his eyes finished the threat that was left unspoken. He didn't care what he had to do to get their cooperation, helping Jane was non-negotiable and paramount.

Nas started to stare Weller down but, reading the determination in his face, sighed instead, "I will see what I can do," and she gracefully left the room.

Weller turned to the blonde, "Patterson, can you keep an eye on Jane after she's done with her work. I have a few meetings that I can't cancel. Don't let her do anything and try to get her to rest. I will check in when I can." He started to leave, "Oh, and Patterson, let's keep this project between us… for now."

…

Normally the paragon of professionalism, Kurt was frustrated to find that he couldn't concentrate on his work. In the back of his mind he anxiously awaited whatever Patterson or Nas would find, and in the forefront, he was staring at Jane in the bullpen.

Reade had pulled up his chair next to Jane's to complete his own work. At first, Jane's body language had tensed up but he saw Reade venture a comment and soon they warmed into relaxed conversation.

A feeling of contentment blossomed in his chest and he found it easier to complete the task at hand and prepare for his upcoming meetings.

Before long, Weller heard Patterson's bubbly personality enter the fray. He looked up and smiled at Jane's dumfounded face as Patterson tucked Jane's arm in her own and started to drag her away talking a mile a minute. Kurt laughed out loud at the 'help me' look she tossed back at Reade. Reade only waved at Jane cheekily and bent back to his own work with a silly smile on his face. Weller glanced down at his watch regretfully; time for his next appointment.

…

Weller could hear the blood pumping in ears as heat began to rise under his stiff collar. Meetings were agonizing at the best of times — and he was beyond impatient for this one to conclude.

He checked his phone for the third time. No response. It had been 3 hours since breakfast and he had texted Jane a reminder to eat… she hadn't replied. His knees bounced in agitation as he forced himself to pay attention to the budget report. Jane knew she needed to eat a regular intervals to improve her health - she could at least reply.

Weller commented briefly on forecasted expenditures while sending a quick text to Patterson to remind Jane to eat. Maybe Jane was feeling overwhelmed. What if she figured out what Patterson was working on? Maybe he should call her— NO, she's an adult, she didn't need to micro-managed. Then again, she hadn't exactly proven herself to be very concerned about her own health. Damn it! This meeting was endless.

…

* * *

...

Patterson's POV

Patterson was so relieved that things were finally getting back to normal. It had been so hard when everyone hated Jane. She hadn't wanted to take sides, but eventually she had to make a decision. Even though Patterson had felt so terrible for Jane, ultimately she had chosen to side with her team in order to maintain as much unity as possible. But now, everyone was trying again. Weller was smiling again. It felt like a dark cloud had passed. Forgiveness wasn't simple, but it would be worth it.

Jane had set herself up quietly on the couch with a sketchbook while Patterson worked on her super secret project. She was hesitant over what she might find, but she understood that any information could help them, help Jane. Patterson was careful to keep her work isolated to a single screen that face opposite of Jane's innocent gaze. Once she had a few infiltration programs running she decided to set it aside in order to indulge herself in some girl time.

"So, Jane… excited for Girls' Night? I'm excited, I have been wanting to go shopping for a while now. What kind of stuff do you need? Clothes, stuff for your place..." Patterson knew she was rambling - but Jane never seemed to mind.

Jane gave her a blank look, "We don't really have to shop or have a Girls' Night, Patterson. Just because Kurt mentioned it last night doesn't mean that you or Tasha have to hang out with me if you're busy. I really don't need anything—"

Patterson held up her hand to silence Jane as her eyes began to water, "What are you even talking about? Of course we want to spend time with you, Jane. Besides, now don't take this the wrong way, but I think you need some new wardrobe options." To cover any insult she quickly added a sunny smile.

"Alright, I guess, tomorrow it—" Jane's phone buzzed and she flipped it over to check it; her lips pursed and her nose scrunched in annoyance before she shoved it back in her pocket. "So what time should I meet you?"

Patterson was curious, "Oh, probably in the late afternoon. Who was that?"

"It's no one, just Weller"

"Oh? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, he's just being—" she paused and breathed heavily into her nose, "it's fine. Where should we meet? Here? My safe house?"

"Your safe house?… I thought—" Patterson's comment was interrupted when her phone went off. She ambled over to her desk to check. It was from Weller ' _Jane's not answering my text, make sure she eats something. Now_.' A large toothy smile split her face in half; this was too cute.

"Umm Jane" she teased, "Weller wants you to eat something. Let's have a snack."

Jane's head dropped onto the back of the couch as she gave an exasperated sigh, "All of a sudden he's become so neurotic… I don't understand."

Patterson looked at her incredulously; how did Jane not see it? Kurt obviously had finally realized how much he loved Jane and didn't know how to show it. Instead he channeled his feelings into being an adorably over-protective mama bear.

"Oh Jane, Weller was so scared for you when you were hurt. This is his way of taking care of you. He is just trying to show you how much he values your *cough* friendship."

Before Patterson could push Jane for more information about her first night at Weller's apartment, Kurt sailed into the lab breathing fire, "Neither of you responded to your texts! What's wrong?"

He knelt in front of Jane and looked her up and down with great care; Kurt's hands hung uselessly at his sides barely resisting the urge to touch her, "Did you eat anything? Are you in any pain?"

At that point Patterson lost it. Between the helpless, concerned look on Weller's normally cool and collected face and the guilty pout that appeared on Jane's bewildered features — Patterson erupted into snorting chuckles. Just wait until she told Tasha about this…

…

* * *

...

Sorry for the wait. The second half of the chapter should be posted soon, maybe even tomorrow. I have been waiting forever to write some of these reveals — some truths about Jane's torture and Kurt will finally witness her nightmares


	7. Chapter 6: Part 2

A few of you noticed, in my story, that the team never had a clear understanding of Jane's time with the CIA. They are about to find out. I have had this written in my mind for ages — it's such a relief to get it out.

…

* * *

...

Chapter 6 - Part 2

The Truth Will Out

...

It was late in the afternoon, just after Jane started her session with Borden, when Kurt finally got a call from Nas. She found something. With great trepidation, he texted Borden to extend Jane's session. He gathered Reade, Zapata and Patterson from their tasks and shepherded them into Nas's office. Once there, he closed the blinds carefully and joined the team to face Nas and the large black screen on her wall.

"I had to burn a lot of sources and go through some dangerous channels to get this, Weller," Nas chided tightly. She was not happy but he couldn't muster an iota of remorse.

"What did you find?" Zapata asked.

"I asked Patterson and Nas to find information about Jane's time with the CIA. There are too many unanswered questions," Weller explained to Zapata and Reade.

Nas took over, "Apparently, the CIA team that had Jane in custody, taped their interrogation sessions in the hopes of gleaning further clues from the footage. I managed to track down a copy of those video files." Nas paused before adding, "You will want to prepare yourselves."

The screen came alive

 _..._

 _A thin, scruffy man slowly circled Jane while a few other CIA goons hovered in the peripheries of the video. Jane was strapped to a chair; her wrists and ankles individually cuffed to the arms and legs. She was covered in electrodes._

 _"_ _Jane, Jane, Jane," the man knelt in front of her and tapped her nose tauntingly with each syllable. "Why are you resisting? What is there to hold onto? Who is there left to fight for?"_

 _Jane didn't move — she barely even breathed, she just stared through the man and waited. The man sighed, "Alright then - you know the drill."_

 _He gestured to a waiting agent who slowly turned a knob. Electricity shocked Jane's defenceless body. She convulsed helplessly as her eyes rolled back in her head._

 _"_ _Who sent you to the FBI?" — No answer._

 _He cranked the knob further, "Why Kurt Weller?" — her convulsions increased and her body was lost in endless, painful spasms._

 _The agent stopped the electrocution and propped his chin in his hands indifferently as he stared deep into her deadened eyes. "You know no one is coming to save you. Nobody cares about you. Whoever planted you in Times Square left you naked and alone - what allegiance could you owe them? And your supposed team handed you over to us without a fight. They arrested you. They abandoned you. You think they don't know what we're doing here; they are happy to see you punished for your sins."_

 _Jane didn't even flinch._

 _"_ _Have it your way," the knob turned again. "Who are your sources?" Her fingers clawed reflexively for freedom but nothing could stop the charges shooting through her aggressively._

 _"_ _How about an easy one… how did you help the FBI?" Her body bowed from the chair as electricity pushed her body to capacity._

 _The session continued for hours until Jane's weak and unconscious body was dragged from the room._

 _Session after session._

 _Thugs beat Jane to a pulp with batons and chains while she dangled helplessly from the ceiling or was lying prone on the cement floor._

 _Jane was drowned and revived countless times, her body barely holding onto life before it was submerged in freezing water once more. In some instances, she truly did die until she was quickly resuscitated._

 _More electrocution. Water boarding. Sleep deprivation. Water deprivation. Stress positions. Emotional and psychological abuse._

 _Jane's hair grew long and limp_

 _Her face became bruised and angular_

 _Her body was savaged and bloody_

 _..._

The screen froze on Jane's emaciated face; her nose dripping blood and her eyes lifelessly gazing through the camera into the hearts of her traumatized teammates.

Kurt moved numbly towards the display, transfixed by Jane's hopeless expression. He heard Patterson hyperventilating and Tasha sobbing in the background; Reade was vomiting in a trash bin. But all he could see was Jane. His fingers traced the grainy pixels of her cheek until his body shuddered and he fell to his knees. Tears slipped uselessly down his numb cheeks.

She hadn't said one, single, solitary word. Jane hadn't begged for help or pleaded for mercy even when the most inhumane atrocities were committed against her person.

Her silence said everything.

What had he done. He was supposed to protect her; Jane was entrusted to him. Instead he had thrown her to the wolves without remorse.

No wonder Jane was broken. No wonder she didn't trust anyone. No wonder she risked her life heedlessly. Jane had been forced to rescue herself from hell and when she'd returned home she found only more pain. In her mind, everything her torturers had said… was proven true. Every day the team had abused Jane for her supposed sins until, eventually, she accepted culpability and began to discipline herself.

Kurt fisted his hands and moved noiselessly to the closest filing cabinet and began to punch again and again. His knuckles split open and blood dripped onto the carpet but he wanted to feel the pain — he deserved the pain.

Eventually, Reade pulled him away from his fight with the cabinet and the team shook out of their horror-stricken stupor. They held each other and cried. They talked and dissected what they could from the tapes. Mostly, they wallowed in guilt and mourned their betrayal of their friend.

…

When their meeting finally ended, Kurt blindly stumbled from the room towards Borden's office. The door was open and Jane was alone. He ignored her surprised expression and dropped heavily beside her. Slowly, he gently reached out to pull her into the circle of his arms. He breathed in the familiar smell of her hair and relished in the strong thrum of her heartbeat against his chest as he held her close.

She was here. She was safe.

He let her pull herself from his grasp and, before she could speak, tried to explain. "I'm sorry, Jane," he wanted to reassure her, "I just… needed that."

…

* * *

...

Kurt stewed in his thoughts as he drove them home. Jane offered a few comments to start conversation, and he tried to follow through, but he was so lost in his mind that he suspected he failed dismally.

When Jane noticed that, once again, they were not driving to her safe house, she had had enough. "Kurt, you are going to the wrong way. I have my stuff. I want to go back to the safe house."

"We'll talk about it when we get to my place."

She huffed and he could feel her simmering in the seat next to him. After staying awake for over 30 hours straight, she should save her energy because she would need superhuman strength to win this battle.

...

Jane stormed into the apartment and slammed her bag into the counter. Kurt followed cautiously behind, waited and braced as she whirled around. Despite the need to focus, he was smiled to see her eyes flashing and alive instead of dead and detached.

"You can't force me to stay with you," she pronounced forcefully.

"I don't want to force you, Jane. I Just want to make sure you're safe — and I don't trust you to take care of yourself." How could he make her understand that all he wanted to to do was help her. That, at this point, he _needed_ to help her.

"You can't protect everyone, Kurt. I'm a big girl. I am not your responsibility any more."

"I know I can't protect everyone, Jane. And I know that I didn't protect you when I should have. I failed you and I…" his voice broke, "Today I— We… found out about the CIA… I mean we received footage of what happened… what really happened while you were held—"

"STOP- Just stop! I'm fine. We don't… I don't want to… I…" Jane faltered. Her anguished features darted around the room looking for an exit.

He walked slowly, deliberately up to Jane and softly clasped her shoulders so that he could look deep into her wounded eyes. "Jane," his voice was gruff and low with emotion, "I am so, Sorry."

"Kurt," she looked up at him, resigned, "Don't be sorry. I understood. It took a while, but I understood. There's not point in rehashing this — I'm strong. I am strong enough to deal with what happened and I'm strong enough to finish this mission. Then you won't ever have to worry about me anymore."

Kurt stared at her in disbelief before he reacted explosively, "No, Jane!" He almost shook her with the intensity of his response. "I never, NEVER, would have let them take you if I'd known what they would do. I didn't know. We didn't know. If I had any inkling, I would have moved heaven and earth to save you."

Kurt leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "Jane, you are the strongest person I know. No one else would have had the strength to keep fighting after everything you went through — but Janie, you don't have to fight alone anymore. Let me help you."

They stood there, frozen and locked together until Kurt felt brave enough to look at her again. She slipped from their hug with watery eyes and retrieved her bag from the table to walk shakily towards Sarah's room. Once she reached the door, she paused and turned; in a tiny, unsure voice she uttered "for now, I'll stay."

He collapsed on the couch. Thank God.

…

* * *

...

Dinner was a quiet affair. Neither of them knew how to speak to each other after such a weighty conversation. He was careful not push Jane too much and she was equally cautious to finish her calorie shake and include a few extra mouthfuls of pasta. He spent the evening in his office while she watched the news. In peaceful silence, they went to bed.

In his dreams, Kurt was tormented by Jane's torture. She was in so much pain; her wide green gaze bore into his soul and begged him for help. And her screams… like liquid fire under his skin that scorched him to the quick. Eventually his mind released him into the present— but Jane's screams continued to ring in his ears.

Nightmares! He leapt from the bed and bolted to Sarah's room desperate to wake Jane from her agony. When Kurt arrived, Jane was in the throes of a terrible dream. She was soaked in sweat and her limbs were fighting an invisible enemy as she screamed and thrashed wretchedly. He grabbed her arms, "Jane! Jane! It's only a dream! Wake up… WAKE UP!"

Even as her eyes snapped open she fought his grip with all the desperation of a feral animal. "Jane, its me. It's Kurt. You're safe, it was a nightmare. Please stop… your ribs."

But she still struggled out of his grasp and threw herself off the bed on the opposite side. Kurt reached over to help her until he heard her throw up into a waiting bin. He sighed in defeat as he padded around the bed to kneel beside her on the floor.

Jane shrank harshly from his touch, as her stomach heaved and twisted over and over again in spite of her pathetic whimpers. Kurt ignored her gut-wrenching flinches, put his arms around her, and comforted her the best he could until the heaves ended and she curled up into a protective ball.

In a whisper so small, Kurt almost thought he imagined it, he heard her breathe, "I'm sorry, I woke you."

"Oh Jane," his throat was too thick to speak, so he acted instead. He reverently tucked her small body in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. Kurt sat her on the counter, holding her steady as she weaved dangerously in place. With a soft, dampened washcloth he wiped her face and hair in tender strokes.

Long moments later she came back to reality; her weary eyes refocused and she stared at him in disbelieving wonder. With a gentle kiss to her forehead he left her alone to shower and collect her thoughts.

...

While he waited for Jane to finish, Kurt paced nervously in the living room. When she finally emerged, embarrassed and shy, he took her hand and towed her to the couch to sit her down. He couldn't pretend he hadn't witnessed her torment. And he couldn't pretend that he didn't comprehend what her nightmares probably contained. "Jane, are they always like that?"

"Every time."

Kurt eyed the deep, dark circles under Jane's eyes with concern, "Would you like to go back to bed - it's only 2 in the morning?"

"No, I don't want to," she stated tiredly, "they just come back."

Kurt rubbed Jane's back soothingly before standing up to grab a quilt and a ginger ale to soothe her stomach. "Ok, we will just camp out in the living room and watch a movie."

He ignored her incredulous stare and hunkered down to sort through the movies that Sarah left behind. There was no way Kurt was going to leave her alone after what he just beheld; it made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it. Half-heartedly he picked a random film and relaxed back on the couch next to Jane.

She kept herself tense and separate, obviously uncomfortable next to him. Maybe she felt overexposed or maybe she was still raw from the nightmare, but he resolved to stare blearily at the screen in front of him until Jane calmed down.

Half way through the film her body gave up the fight and slowly unwound. Kurt inched himself closer and wrapped one arm loosely around her shoulders. Jane's breathing had begun to even out but he knew she was still struggling to stay awake.

Jane was groggy and almost-asleep when Kurt cuddled her closer and began to whisper gentle reassurances in her ear in the hopes of soothing her to sleep. "Jane, you're safe… I won't let them hurt you ever again… I'm right here."

Jane slurred, unintentionally honest and unguarded in her exhaustion, " But, Kurt, in my nightmares… its not the CIA who tortures me … it's you."

…

His heart stopped — he couldn't breathe. Her confession roared in his ears and he fought the compulsion to howl in grief. He was the spectre that haunted her dreams; he was her nightly tormentor. He wanted to punch the wall or scrub the taint of his crimes from his flesh. But he could do nothing because Jane was sprawled in his embrace, trustingly cradled under his chin while his tears dripped down onto her expression of sweet repose.

He drew in a ragged breath while he steadied his racing mind. He couldn't… fix this. Time, it would just take time. He just… had to keep trying. Borden, the team and him — they would all help her see that they cared for her and that she was safe with them. He hoped… he prayed, that time would remove him from her nightmares.

He angled his body to recline on the couch and tucked Jane into his embrace. Kurt let his eyes drift shut as he was lulled by the reassuring sound of her steady breathing. He was halfway to dreamland when Jane began to twitch. Her heart-rate started to accelerate and her breathe began to hitch. Kurt held her close as she jerked and murmured in distress.

"Shh… shhhh…. Jane. It's okay. I'm here… calm down, Sweetheart."

Still asleep, Jane's breath caught in latent sobs and she quietly whimpered, "Please don't hurt me anymore."

Kurt breathed into her curls, "Never, never, never… I'll always keep you safe … I love you."

…

* * *

...

Phew — an emotional rollercoaster thank you for sticking with me… hopefully it was all worth the wait, especially that last line.

Oh and please keep the prompts coming - your ideas are awesome.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N I was going to divide this chapter into two as well… but you guys deserve an extra long chapter — here we get to see a subtle shift in Jane's mindset and finally some movement towards repairing lost trust. Plus, I really wanted to get into Jane's mind as she grapples with all of these sudden changes.

* * *

...

Chapter 7

One Step at a Time

...

Jane woke up disoriented. She couldn't remember the last time she had woken to sunlight and… she was on the couch? She made an attempt to sit up and clear her head, but was stopped short. Jane looked down; she was nestled tightly in someone's arms. She lightly touched the hands; they were rough and scarred and…familiar. Kurt's hands. Oh.

Pieces of yesterday and last night drifted back to her.

Jane's instinctual reaction had been anger. Why did the team need to dig up footage of their handiwork? Either they were morbidly curious about her pain tolerance or they wanted to find out what secrets she revealed. But then… Kurt apologized… again… he was so upset by it. The anger was quickly surpassed by shock. Supposedly the team had no idea about the torture. Jane had spent all evening trying to wrap her mind around it. All those months Jane had been taunted with the fact that her team had willingly sent her to the CIA and been aware of her abuse. It was hard to discount it, especially considering their scathing attitudes towards her since her return. But apparently they had no idea and were appalled by what had happened.

Could Jane believe them? Should she? She had built impenetrable walls around her heart to protect herself from further pain; to get through each day. Now everything shifted. Jane had tried to remain indifferent to everyone's radical turnaround in the expectation that it was a farce. She knew it was smarter— safer to remain aloof. But right now, in Kurt's arms, she was tempted believe anything.

If it was true that her team had no idea about the nature of her ordeal with the CIA until yesterday, did that mean she could trust them? And if they were sincerely apologetic, did that mean they could move forward as a team? Did she dare anticipate a future after Sandstorm? Maybe… For the first time in a long time Jane felt stirrings of hope.

She looked down and idly ghosted her fingers over Kurt's forearms. It was mortifying to know that Kurt had witnessed the extent of her nightmares. But Jane couldn't deny that this moment… right now… was the safest she had felt, ever. It made her feel protected… like she belonged… like she had found a haven in his arms.

Kurt had even kept her nightmares at bay. Jane snorted lightly; it was somewhat ironic considering his starring role in them. Usually in her dreams, Kurt vengefully tortured her in place of the CIA agents and righteously exposed all her failings. It was excruciating and normally resonated with his daily attitude towards her at work.

But now Jane had to take into account his behaviour the last few days… He'd been taking care of her with undisputed concern. His conversations, expressions and actions seemed open and earnest. Kurt was extremely upset about the footage yesterday and the way he had held her… it felt almost like he was glad she was alive. Then last night he had guarded her like some kind of fabled knight.

She smiled… maybe she could believe that Kurt didn't hate her anymore. Maybe they were even friends.

...

Jane let herself linger in Kurt's arms; secure and… happy. It was easy to slip into a fantasy that they were normal. Carefree. She could let herself care about him and pretend that he returned her feelings. Guiltily, Jane let herself savour the moment… until she felt him stir.

She tried to retreat from the couch to avoid an awkward scene but his arms refused to release and instead pulled her closer. Jane could feel his breath on her neck as Kurt snuggled his bristly cheek against her own. He vibrated against her spine, "Hmmm stay… It's Saturday and I'm cold."

The feel of his breath on her skin sent tingles to Jane's toes… was Kurt serious? A cruel realization flew into her head. What if he thought she was someone else? What if he thought he was holding Allie? She stiffened in dismay and her stomach clenched with pain, then growled.

One of Kurt's hands moved down to her abdomen and rested on her stomach, "That is the world's worst alarm clock. Come on, let's get you fed."

He gave a mighty groan as he flexed his legs against hers and shifted himself into a sitting position bringing Jane with him. Somehow she ended up perched on Kurt's lap with his hands resting loosely around her waist. He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades and yawned. Jane trembled as she realized that his head was nuzzled right above his own name on her back.

Kurt's low, gruff voice grazed her ear, "I'm starving; do you feel up to breakfast… or would you prefer a shake?"

She could feel heat rising in her cheeks and Jane was relieved that Kurt couldn't see her blush, "Breakfast is fine. Umm Kurt, about last night, I… Thank you for your help." Jane attempted to stand but he wasn't ready for her to leave yet.

Kurt lifted and turned Jane sideways to stare into her face. His blue eyes were focused solely on her with such fierce surety, "I was happy to be here for you. Always, Jane."

He stood slowly so that she could get her footing, "Now, breakfast."

This felt like a strange and wonderful dream.

...

Jane had almost forgotten about Girls' Night until Tasha texted her a reminder that she and Patterson would collect her before noon. She found herself oddly… excited. She was looking forward to losing herself in the friendly camaraderie she had missed.

Kurt had frowned at first when she mentioned her plans. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Jane. You had a rough night. I'm sure they would understand if you wanted to postpone it."

A low chuckle escaped her mouth, "Seriously? I'm fine, Kurt. Last night was the best night's sleep I've had in months. Really." Jane smiled to herself; she had enough energy run a marathon today.

His mouth gaped for a moment before he pressed it into a thin line, "Please be careful then…" and grudgingly added, "And have fun."

Jane changed and wandered back into the kitchen to watch Kurt cook. She shyly offered to help but he waved her over a chair to "rest." Watching him was a fun distraction. She rarely saw him so relaxed and comfortable… and humming to himself. When Jane teased Kurt about his song choice he responded with a snarky retort about her dismal cooking exchanged silly banter while he focused on breakfast. And if she happened to take the opportunity to admire how his jeans fit snugly over his— Oh Shit, he turned around. She ducked her head and read the newspaper.

Tasha and Zapata arrived in a flurry of excited chatter (Patterson more than Tasha). It was impossible not to get swept into their enthusiasm, even if Jane was a silent partner. At one point she was distracted from the small talk to see Kurt blatantly staring at her with a goofy grin on his face. Self-consciously Jane touched her face to search for the cause and was surprised to feel a wide grin stretched across her cheeks. A real smile. Shyly, she turned her head and added to the conversation.

On their way out the door, Kurt couldn't help but lecture Tasha and Patterson, "Take it easy alright? Don't forget about her ribs. It's important to stop for regular meals and make sure she takes her pain medication. You have to—"

"You have to see that I am standing right here and am able to manage all of those things on my own," Jane dryly added from outside the taxi. It was sweet that he was concerned but enough was enough.

Patterson giggled and Zapata added a sassy, "Got it, boss."

Kurt gave Jane a key to get back into his apartment later. And they were off.

...

* * *

...

Tasha and Patterson dragged Jane all over the city. She had never understood the term "shop till you drop," until now. They flitted from boutiques to box stores to second-hand stores in the search for "everything." They cajoled her into trying on things that were entirely inappropriate for work and then proceeded to purchase them against her wishes. It was maddening and…wonderful.

Eventually they realized that the effort it took to try on clothes was taking a toll on her ribs so they just starting snatching up things in her size. Jane honestly had no idea what was even in half of the bags.

It was simple. Easy. Jane couldn't remember the last time she had passed even an hour without agonizing over work or her mission or her mistakes. As for Tasha and Patterson - they were on a two-woman mission to talk about anything except work. They actively ignored the elephant in the room *cough* the CIA footage *cough*. Instead they tenaciously gabbed about colours and sizes and debated whether or not the hot coffee barista was single.

There were moments though… In the changing room Patterson had caught sight of the spectacular bruises on her torso; her baby blue eyes had become suspiciously watery and she excused herself to the bathroom. And there was the unfortunate incident when they overheard a fellow shopper complain to her friend how her new shoes were "torture." Tasha gave the woman a death glare while Patterson blanched; together they ushered her quickly out of the food court like Jane might fall apart any moment. Their concern was a little late and misguided but she appreciated the sentiment behind it; maybe Jane could believe them after all.

The day was frivolous. It was a waste of time and money. It was not a priority. And yet, it was about more than the clothes. It was about re-establishing lost links; about re-building friendships.

...

* * *

...

Hours later they stashed the clothes at Weller's empty apartment and headed out for the night.

They went for dinner at a local pub. They were stretched out at the bar with Jane comfortably in the middle picking at nachos and sipping tonic water. While Jane refrained from drinking due to her pain medication, Patterson and Tasha indulged in a few drinks. Already Jane noticed with part amusement and part concern, that the alcohol made Patterson more boisterous and Tasha more bold.

After several hours in their company, and no longer anticipating cruel remarks, Jane was taking a greater part in the conversation. They had been chatting innocently about the hockey game televised above the bar when Tasha abruptly changed the subject. Jane blamed the tequila.

"Jane," Tasha focused on Jane, only slurring slightly, "We've been avoiding this all day because we didn't want to overwhelm you and we wanted today to be fun for you. Some things are better left unsaid, but I'm probably a little drunk, so I'm going to say them."

"It's okay, Zapata, let's just watch the game." Jane's wasn't sure she was ready for this conversation. Tasha had been a harsh critic, second only to herself, and this could get ugly.

"No, Jane." Tasha continued, "I need to say this. I was so mad at you; we were friends and you didn't trust me and then Mayfair died. I would have helped you and then nothing would have happened. But, as much as I hated you and despite all the terrible things I've said… I would never wish that CIA black site on you. When we watched that footage, I realized how much you've suffered — not just then but now too. And I'm sorry for my part in it; really sorry. I was your friend and I abandoned you — but I want to start over, if you can forgive me."

Jane was frozen. Of all the things that she imagined Tasha Zapata would say to her, this was the last thing on the list. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. She didn't know what to say.

Behind her, Patterson slid her arms around her waist and squeezed her into a hug, "It was awful, Jane, we had no idea. I— I can't imagine how you survived for _three months_. I'm so sorry — I should have done something. I should have looked for you. Why don't you hate us? _I_ hate us."

"I don't hate you guys. As much as you guys blamed me for Mayfair's death… I blamed myself more. I wanted to protect you all, but I hurt you instead… I failed and ruined everything. I figured I was due the punishment."

Patterson hugged her tighter, her baby blue eyes filled with tears, "No, Jane! You couldn't have known. You made mistakes but you were trying to do the right thing. We understand that now."

Tasha just stared at her for a moment before she leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose, "You didn't deserve that. You were a victim — a pawn, you never deserved _that_ " disgust evident in her voice.

Tasha wrapped her arms around Patterson's and joined the women in a group hug. For a while, Jane sat rigid, unsure, but when they didn't let go she relaxed and basked in their forgiveness. She felt so light — she had been trampled and down-trodden for so long she never expected to feel so free. Free of guilt and contempt; at least for now.

Eventually it had to end; besides all that hugging was a little tough on her ribs. Jane felt brave so she teased, "So Patterson, what's it like dating Borden?"

Patterson spluttered and coughed her drink, "How did you know about that?" her blue eyes wide with dismay.

"Oh, Come ON. You guys have been coming to the office together for like two weeks now. Even if I didn't know… I would know." Tasha laughed in an obvious tone.

"So...," Jane smiled at her with eyebrows raised.

"I don't know," Patterson banged her forehead against the counter, "We're having fun and I like him a lot but sometimes I think I am moving too fast because of David."

"You deserve it, Patterson, you deserve to be happy. You should enjoy it and not overthink it," Tasha gamely countered. "Speaking of deserving happiness… how is everything at Casa Weller, Jane?"

Jane focused doggedly on the TV screen above her and fought a blush, "It's fine— so about David…"

"No no no no no… I've been dying to hear about this too. Is he as overprotective at home as he is in the office? Have you kissed, yet?" Patterson giggled and bounced in her seat.

"Ummm, he's nice. A little pushy about following the doctor's orders. No kissing…"

"NICE?!" Tasha interrupted, "I know there's more to it than that. You didn't see his face when he watched that tape — it was like his world had ended. And he hasn't been able to focus on anything except you." She winked suggestively and ordered another shot, "But if you don't want to share then fine… keep your secrets."

"No! Don't keep secrets… I need details," Patterson pleaded conspiringly.

Jane was rescued from answering when her phone rang — desperate for the distraction she answered it without checking. "Hello?"

"Jane? Is everything okay… you sound out of breathe," It was Weller. Shit.

"I'm fine, Kurt, we're at the bar near Tasha's place."

"You can't drink with your medication." Kurt cut in bluntly and loudly, she could see Tasha and Patterson eavesdrop on the conversation with great interest, "Do you feel okay? Should I come and get you?"

Jane could hear jingling in the background as he grabbed keys, "Kurt, STOP! I'm fine. I'm not—"

Tasha grabbed the phone, "Don't get your panties in a wad, Weller; she's drinking water. We on the other hand, are driiinkiiing…" Tasha sing-songed into the phone and laughed. Then hung up. Uh Oh. Jane hoped Kurt could take a joke, otherwise she was returning to an annoyed host.

...

Twenty minutes later Patterson decided that Tasha needed a man in her life too. She skipped over to a small group of guys and proceeded to drag them over for Tasha to inspect. Jane observed silently from the bar and laughed at the impromptu set up. Tasha and a tall, buff man had actually hit it off — but then again, alcohol is a social lubricant and who knows how she'll feel tomorrow. Her smile dimmed — Jane hoped Patterson and Tasha would still feel the same way about her tomorrow…

Caught up in her own worries she almost didn't notice one of the guys approach her with a hesitant smile. "Hey… the blonde one told me that you're the sober one. I'm the designated driver too. Want to hang out and mock our drunk friends mercilessly?"

Jane paused; he seemed nice enough. She supposed a few minutes in his company wouldn't be too dangerous, "Sure." After all, she didn't have many opportunities to meet new people.

They found a common interest in art. He, Josh, was fascinated by her tattoos and had lifted the neckline of her shirt to get a better look at the swirly one off her left shoulder when Jane felt her skin prickle with awareness. Scanning the bar covertly she was taken aback to find Kurt glaring at her. No, not at her… at Josh.

Jane tried to signal that she was fine but Kurt was already on the move. Before she had a chance to warn her new friend, Kurt materialized in front of them. Without looking away from Josh he scooped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his side protectively.

Josh blinked in surprise when Jane's shoulder was pulled out of his sight, "Oh, hello."

Kurt didn't speak - he had shifted his razor sharp gaze to frown at Zapata and Patterson giggling at a nearby table. The lucky duo were oblivious to the storm brewing at the bar.

Josh tried to break the awkward tension, "Sooo, boyfriend?"

Jane was quick to diffuse _that_ bomb, "N—"

"Yes," Kurt cut in smoothly and then shifted her arms around her waist to escort her out of the bar.

...

When they exited the building Kurt dropped his arm and took her hand instead. Jane's eyes darted between their linked hands and the side of his face; he said he was her boyfriend… She punched down the yearning that burned in her chest. She knew it wasn't true. Their relationship had always been indefinable but at this point she was only barely classified Kurt as a friend.

Jane allowed herself to be lead to Kurt's illegally parked SUV without protest. Annoyance started to simmer. He still hadn't said anything about why he had ruined Girls' Night. That situation hadn't warranted such a strong reaction from him - he knew she wasn't even drinking. Yet not one single explanation.

She folded her arms to convey her anger but he only manoeuvred them out of the way to buckle her into the passenger seat. Jane hypothesized that some kind of emergency had occurred; perhaps a case required their immediate assistance. But in her gut she knew that Kurt's behaviour wasn't in line with that theory. She would have to wait for his justification; it better be good.

He paused in the driver's seat to grab his cell. Without preamble he barked into the phone, "I'm taking Jane home - call yourselves a cab." He hung up and started the vehicle. He was obviously upset. She eyed his tense jaw and white knuckles while she waited for him to snap. It didn't take long.

"I can't believe they took you to a bar where you can't even drink and then left you defenceless to predators while they got drunk," Kurt seethed, "I am going to—"

"We were all having fun," Jane cut off his tirade, "Besides I can take care of myself and Josh wasn't drunk, he was completely sober."

Kurt pulled in front of his apartment and turned to face her, "Jane, you're still injured. You don't know what could have happened. Josh" he sneered, "was bad news. Trust me."

"Trust you?" Jane snapped incredulously. She angrily unclipped her seatbelt and slammed the door on her way out. Enough was enough; who did he think he was? By the time she pushed her way into the apartment, she was livid.

"Jane, hold on"

She set her jaw and refused to turn around. Things had changed so quickly and Jane didn't know where she stood with the team anymore. Foe, teammate or friend? The last few days suggested friendship, but a few good days weren't sufficient evidence to prove anything. She needed to think… needed more time to decide if she could rely on the changes to be permanent. Then Kurt blurts out that she should just "trust him?" He knew what she went through. He knew EVERYTHING! Trust? HA!

Kurt walked around and stopped in front of Jane. He stepped close… too close. She shoved him back. "Since I came back, I knew where I stood. You all let me know how you felt about me and I figured out what to expect. You didn't trust me — and I couldn't trust any of you."

She shook her head in disbelief, "Now you all have been collectively body-snatched. You learned a few new facts and all of a sudden you're including me again, apologizing — treating me like before. and You—" she jabbed his chest with her index finger, "You're the worst. You're there all the time; helping me, feeding me, holding me and absconding me from bars. And I can't ignore you and I'm afraid to trust you —I'm afraid to trust any of you."

Kurt wrapped both of his hands around Jane's and pressed her hand against his heart. "Please listen. I understand that this is difficult and sudden for you. But we didn't just learn a few new facts, Jane, we saw the truth. We saw events from your perspective and that changed everything. We only want to make amends and rebuild what we lost."

Jane tried to pull her hand away but he refused to let go. "How can I know that this will last — what if something happens and you all decide to hate me again."

"That won't happen"

Her were wild and wide with pain, "But it DID! It did happen." Jane's voice dropped to a whisper, "Maybe things should just go back to the way they were — it was easier when I knew not to expect anything."

She yanked back her hand and tried to step around him, but Kurt's arms reached out and were around her before she knew what he had done. Her skin tingled under his touch; she wanted her personal space back. And she didn't.

Kurt started softly, "Jane, it wasn't better before — before you were hurting yourself and I can't let that continue." He pulled her closer and tucker her head under his chin, "I can't take back what happened to you, Jane, but I can be here for you now. I promise that I will always be here for you. Eventually you will see that, and you'll be able to trust me again — until then let's just move forward one step at a time."

...

* * *

...

Jane got ready for bed slowly and methodically. It had been a long, tiring day but she debated staying awake tonight. She looked up at the quiet knock on her door.

Kurt stuck his head in, "So… I think we should sleep together."

She gaped at him. What? Did he just…?

A smile broke over Kurt's face, "Just sleep, Jane. With your nightmares, I think it would be safer if we slept in the same room so that I can help you in case something happens."

Jane rubbed the side of her face sleepily, "Kurt, I'll be fine—"

"I hate that word, Jane. Nothing about your nightmares is 'fine'," he added sarcastic quotes with his fingers, "Your bed or mine?"

They stood at a stalemate. Jane wistfully recalled how lovely it was to wake up in his arms and get so many hours of sleep. But she was still reluctant to put her heart at such obvious risk — she was already too attached.

Kurt tilted his head and slowly reach out his hand, "Come on, Jane, one step at a time."

"Your bed"

...

Kurt gave her privacy to settle herself into his room while he brushed his teeth. Jane could see his alarm clock and a stack of case notes on the right bedside table, so she crawled into the left side of the bed. He turned off the light before sliding in next to her. Kurt was careful to give her space but she felt him all the same. Jane rolled to her side and let herself fall asleep surrounded by the smell of Kurt.

She slept peacefully, dreamlessly — not a single nightmare. She could have slept the day away if it hadn't been for her phone. The quiet buzzing gently roused her from slumber but thankfully hadn't bothered Kurt.

Jane awoke to a soft bed and tangled sheets and the warmth of Kurt's arms. Although they had started the night in platonic positions they ended up cuddled together. Jane's back was pressed to Kurt's front and their legs were deliciously entwined. His arms were wrapped around her protectively and Jane had clasped his hands in hers. She didn't want to leave him but she knew that Roman had sent a message — reality beckoned.

It took several attempts to extricate herself from his grasp but she managed. Her text indicated that she needed to rendezvous with Roman immediately.

With a sigh Jane stroked his cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "I love you," she murmured against his lips. Here in the darkness, she could admit it — she could expose the deepest wish of her battered heart. She loved him. Even if he probably would never see her the same way, she would still keep him safe. She would do what it took to finish this mission.

Jane jotted down a quick note to explain her absence and slipped out the door.

...

* * *

...

I couldn't resist the ending - I loved the idea of them both admitting their love while the other was sleeping.

It's sad but my little story is drawing to a close


	9. Chapter 8

Its time for Jane and Kurt to find some happiness. In the show it looks like this is going to be a long time coming, so I might have to live in fan fiction for a while longer... sigh.

* * *

...

Chapter 8

I love You

...

Kurt paced across his living room as he jerkily dialled the phone again. Still no response. Logically, if Jane was with Roman then she wouldn't answer but he didn't feel very logical right now. Kurt had woken up to a cold bed and no Jane; it was the embodiment of his childhood nightmare.

When he had gone to bed, Jane lay safely beside him. In the middle of the night, he had woken up to find himself wrapped around her. It had felt so peaceful - so right - she fit so perfectly in his arms. He had drifted back to sleep lulled by the sound of Jane's even breathing and anticipated that tomorrow he would wake up with her curling up in his embrace like this morning.

She had been right there — but in the morning the bed was empty and the sheets were cool.

He fought the panic at first and called Jane's name — perhaps she had woken up early and was sketching in the guest room — but, no answer. He searched the apartment for any sign of her. He felt like his 10-year-old self scrambling around the house with terror pounding through his veins. Nothing. Only a note. One shitty, brief, unhelpful note.

 _Kurt,_

 _Had a meeting_

 _thanks, Jane_

When he finally tracked her down Kurt was going to give Jane a stern lecture on the importance of descriptive note-taking and necessity of physically telling him when she was going to disappear. He didn't care if that sounded ridiculous. In lieu of that fact that she was not there to hear he grim speech… Kurt had resorted to pacing.

He paced the living room; back and forth.

Kurt had thought they had made good progress yesterday. Jane seemed to have a good time with Tasha and Patterson, even with the slimy advances of that handsy hipster. She had gotten angry with him — good and angry — and she had been honest about her fears and lack of trust. But despite those confessions, Jane had let him reassure her; she had still taken his hand and let him lead her to his bed. Jane was courageous and Kurt truly sensed that she had believed him. Kurt's heart clenched; in his dreams she had whispered that she loved him.

Eventually Kurt could wait no longer; he had to go to the office. This was _not_ a good start to the day.

…

* * *

...

 _Reade's POV_

Reade stumbled into work slowly. His normally perfect suit was rumpled but he couldn't bring himself to care. Insomnia had become normal for him since he learned that he may possibly be one of Jones' victims. He desperately chugged his tea and debated switching to coffee just for the sake of the extra caffeine.

Weller was just leaving the locker room when he came in, "Hey, Weller, how's it going. How's Jane?"

Weller's neck snapped in his direction and his eyes bored into him like he was a suspect, "What do you know? Have you heard from her today?"

"Wow, man, no — I was just being nice." What did he say? And he thought he was having a bad day. Weller dragged his hand across his face agitatedly and exited the room. Note to self, stay away from Weller today...

"Don't take it personally," Tasha came around the corner looking a LOT hungover, "He took off my head this morning too with a biting reprimand on the importance of protecting friends from perverted barflies - His words not mine. Jane didn't come in with him today and she still hasn't arrived yet; I'm thinking that's the reason."

"I don't think Weller knows where Jane is — she must be on some Sandstorm thing"

"Today is going to suck so bad" Tasha whimpered into her locker. She needed ibuprofen.

…

Reade heard a series of sharp bangs emitting from Weller's office and looked through the glass walls. Kurt was slamming drawers and yelling into his phone. At least someone was having a worse day than him. Jane was in troooouuble when she came back. The only question was whether Kurt was going to yell at her or kiss her… or both.

He heard the squeak of wheels as Zapata rolled her chair next to his. He laughed at her sunglasses. "I guess that makes two people who are having a worse day than me" and he brought her attention to Weller's fit of rage.

"Those two are are just exploding with tension; it's only a matter of time," Tasha whispered conspiratorially.

"Only a matter of time…?"

"Well duh!" Tasha's incredulous look melted into a predatory grin as she took in Reade's confused face. She smelled an opportunity. "Wanna bet on when Weller and Jane will move in together?"

Reade thought for a minute and then laughed out loud, "Hell yah, I want a piece of that action. I think Weller's definitely there but he's going to drag his feet because Jane isn't ready yet. With their issues… Three months. Fifty bucks."

"Wow, you're just making this easy for me," Zapata lowered her sunglasses, "Their feelings were already strong last year — and now they have no reason not to follow them. Besides, you didn't see him go all caveman last night when a guy flirted with her at the bar. He is not going to wait long. I say, two months, tops. A Hundred bucks."

"It's a bet"

…

Near the end of the work day, Reade was glad to see it end. He had never been so relieved not to have a tattoo case. As he tidied his desk, Reade looked up to see Weller at his desk. He looked lost.

As Reade stood up to leave he chanced another look at the desolate man. Weller was holding his cell phone phone with a look of relief on his face. Reade smiled, Jane must have finally texted. Thank God. He didn't want another day like today.

…

* * *

…

Kurt ordered take out for dinner; there was no way he had the presence of mind to cook anything edible. Kurt checked his watch; Jane should be home soon. She had finally replied to his texts that she was on her way back. He knew he was being irrational; Jane met with Roman frequently. Yet every time she disappeared from his protection it felt like he had a boulder on his chest; he just couldn't breathe.

He should try to reign in his emotions. This needed to be a calm and logical conversation so that he didn't scare her off. So Kurt sat down and he waited. His knees bounced and the take-out was cold but he waited. Patiently.

When he finally heard the shuffling feet and quiet click of the door that signalled Jane's arrival Kurt stood to meet her at the doorway. He ignored her wary expression, ignored her tired, disheveled appearance, ignored everything... and instead tugged her against his chest. Jane's arms hung awkwardly at her sides until she realized he wouldn't let go so she clumsily reached up to hug him back.

Pulling back slightly, Kurt looked intently into her face, "Are you okay? Any pain?"

Her eyes fluttered tiredly and Jane grudgingly admitted, "I'm fine — a little sore but nothing dangerous."

Kurt let his forehead rest against hers briefly as tension seeped from his body, "Good. That's good. I'll get you some painkillers." He sat her on the couch and retrieved some pills and a glass of water from the kitchen as he steeled himself for their next conversation. In the wake of relief, he could feel his earlier frustrations resurge.

Jane was slumped against the headrest when he returned and asked, "Long day?"

She eyed him suspiciously, puzzled at his loaded tone, "Yes. Roman wanted to see me. He wanted a debrief on our latest mission in Bedsford and he took me on a long trip to meet some engineer he wanted to recruit. It was a long drive. Too much pretending. A lot of talking."

"I had a long day too," He didn't elaborate; the bitter timbre said enough.

"Are you— are you _angry_ with me about something?" she was more alert now. Her hands tense and her eyes laser-focused on the nuances of his expression.

"I'm not angry, Jane. I'm concerned. You disappeared in the middle of the night— and I didn't hear from you for over 14 hours." his hands animatedly emphasized his aggravation.

"I was working, Kurt— I was focusing on my mission" Jane stood defiantly.

"I realized that you were do—"

"—AND I left a note!"

"A very short note with no information" Kurt snapped and stepped closer.

Jane pursed her lips and breathed heavily, "Kurt, you're not my father or my brother or my boyfriend — you're my boss. I'm not accountable to tell you where I am every hour of the day."

Kurt tried not to flinch at the word 'boyfriend.' How did she not see how invested he was in her safety… how much he cared about her? "Put yourself in my shoes, Jane. How would you feel if you woke up and I had vanished into thin air. Anything could have happened to you— you're still injured."

"I—" she clamped her mouth shut and her ire withered, "I'm sorry. I really didn't think that you would be that upset. I was _helping_ you. I was helping the team. It was important — it's my mission... my purpose."

Kurt's heart broke a little at her tragic honesty. He closed the gap between them until their bodies were just touching. "No, Jane. Stopping Sandstorm is your _job_ and yes it's important — but it's not your purpose. Your purpose is to build a life; to find joy and happiness and _live_."

"That has never really been an option for me — it doesn't seem very realistic." Her eyes were glassy and despondent.

"Even now, Jane?" He stroked her face gently.

"Are you trying to find happiness too, Kurt, or are you just focused on the job."

"I try— but it's hard when the woman you love disappears on a dangerous mission in the middle of the night without telling you."

"I left a note. And you have no right to decide what is safe for me— the… the woman you love?" Jane paused, unsure and shocked, "When did you decide that?"

A smile crept up Kurt's face, "when I realized I couldn't live my life without you in it."

Her face still reflected disbelief so he plunged on, "When we first met last year - it was instinctual. One look at those green eyes, one touch of your inked fingers - and I needed to be around you. I cared about you so much… too much. I let myself believe it was because you were Taylor, even when there was evidence to the contrary. Since you came back, I tried to pretend that those feelings never existed. I buried them and I hurt you. But when I almost lost you… I couldn't ignore those feelings anymore. I couldn't ignore you… I l _ove_ you. I love _you,_ Jane.

"That's a bad idea. I'm bad for you; you're safer far away from me. I'm supposed to be alone." her voice like a lost child.

"You are an amazing woman, Jane, and I will try every day to deserve you. You teach me to be strong and brave and vulnerable and selfless. You're not alone anymore." Kurt framed her face with both hands and erased any space between them. He brushed his lips against hers once… twice. And pulled back to gauge her reaction.

She looked scared; scared to believe him, "Are you sure you want to love me?"

He fought the urge to crush her against he chest and instead smoothed her curls behind her ears sweetly, "Love isn't a choice. I was in love with you long before I admitted it to myself. But, if I could choose, it would be you every time."

Tears filled her eyes and Jane whispered, "I love you too." She lifted up on her toes to kiss him back deeply.

…

They spent hours walking around the city, arm in arm through the crunchy fall leaves. They shared the things they had kept hidden from each other. Kurt told her about finding Taylor's body, his unresolved feelings about his father and the deep-felt grief over Mayfair. She, in turn, told him about killing Oscar, her nightmares and her long-held expectation of imminent death. They bared their souls and cleansed their consciences. It wasn't a quick solution; their deep-rooted issues would take time to process… but it was a start, a significant step that they made together.

When they returned to Kurt's doorstep, Jane paused on the steps, "I'm afraid this is a dream."

Kurt understood her fear — he knew it could still take her a while before she truly believed in his love for her. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly until the world fell away; trying to assure her beyond words that this was real. "Believe it now?"

She smiled, dazed, "Hmmm I need more convincing"

"Any more convincing has do be done inside, or we might get arrested."

She took his hand in his and lead him to the door before grinning cheekily, "Okay."

…

They spent the night in each other's arms just holding each other close. In the darkness, they both needed physical proof that this was real.

Kurt slept soundly; the peaceful slumber of a man who loved and was loved in return. And Jane… for the first time, her dreams reflected snatches of a hopeful future. Dreams of kisses, Christmases, birthdays, children and Kurt.

…

* * *

…

The next day at work, Kurt and Jane had resolved to stay professional. The last thing they wanted was to become fodder for office gossip. And the last thing they could afford was for their blossoming relationship to compromise their integrity in the field.

But, to be honest, those two were never capable of hiding those long, lingering looks. At least, it was only the people who knew them best that caught the unconscious changes that they were unable to hide…

Zapata and Reade were discussing last night's basketball game when they saw Kurt and Jane arrive together. Zapata smirked when she noticed how the two dropped hands when the doors opened. Her smile of triumph only deepened when she spotted Kurt's hand subtly resting on Jane's back as they stepped into the bullpen before they separated. The heavy stare they shared as they parted didn't go overlooked either.

Tasha cast a side-long glance at Reade to see if he observed the minute changes. He gave her a knowing look before he rolled his eyes heavily and gave a frustrated sigh.

"Can't we just be happy for them and forget the stupid bet?"

"Nope. You should never bet against me, Reade. It's only a matter of time, now."

…

* * *

...

I was a little nervous about this chapter… moving away from the angst towards some happiness.

Please, please tell me what you think.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

All's Fair in Love and War

...

2 months later

...

Sun filtered through the wooded landscape as Jane confidently trekked between the trees. It was an uncommonly bright winter day. Mindful of the crunchy, frosty leaves, she stealthily maneuvered through the shadows to track the target. The prey was on the move.

Using hand gestures she signalled to Zapata to move to her left while she maintained a northern route. Gun at the ready, Jane was relieved that she had been given medical clearance for field duty a few weeks ago. She had missed the energy and adrenaline of active duty.

Focus! Jane returned her attention to the task at hand.

A branch snapped up ahead and she crouched behind some dense bushes to investigate. Up ahead, Jane spotted a male figure dressed similarly to her — camouflage gear, combat boots, ammo — she raised her gun and aimed just as the man turned in her direction.

Reade's face filled her scope and she squeezed the trigger.

…

…

3

…

…

2

…

…

1

…

…

Direct Hit!

...

Pink paint splattered all over Reade's upper chest. She stood up with a wide grin as Tasha broke through the trees with a whoop of triumph.

"Pink is definitely your colour," Tasha pointed and giggled, "Very in season."

Hands on his hips, Reade looked down in dismay, "I can pull off anything, but still, I would prefer to see you in blue."

A shot interrupted their ridiculous commentary.

…

…

…

SPLAT!

...

"Jane! RUN! I've been hit!," Tasha glared down at the blue paint that spread across her shoulder and helmet, "Damn it, Weller — only cowards hide in the trees. Come on out and fight!"

…

Anticipation strengthened Jane's stride as she plunged into the forest. If she judged correctly, Weller would be coming from the northeast. She adjusted her direction and evasively headed towards the high ground to gain a better vantage point.

Borden had advised the team to take part in more group activities outside of work to foster friendship and build trust. Because of Jane's ribs, they had started with more tame adventures like Game Night and the she had been cleared by medical, they could raise the bar.

Jane grinned wolfishly as she gained the high ground. The team had divided into Guys vs. Girls and she was determined to win. She was certain she and Weller were the last ones standing — Patterson and Borden had already been eliminated about twenty minutes earlier.

The losing team had to treat the winners for drinks… and suffer the bitter taste of defeat. Jane would have been happy with just the bragging rights, except, she and Weller had made a their own bet. Their wager significantly raised the stakes on what was once a simple outing with friends; there was now a big decision riding on the outcome of the paintball game.

Moreover, Kurt would be insufferable if he won.

She noticed a flicker of movement in a copse of trees to her left so Jane shifted her attention to focus intently through the scope. A smirk of glee snuck across her face as she caught a brief glimpse of Weller. She steadied her breathing to await a clear shot until...Damn. Jane grimaced, he was moving away from her position.

Oh well, it wouldn't be fun if it were easy.

Standing cautiously she calculated a route through the forest that allowed her to circle around Kurt's trajectory. She prowled behind trees until she found her opportunity. Her footsteps made no sound in the brush as she crept up behind Kurt and nudged his shoulder with the barrel of her paintball gun.

"Surrender."

Kurt froze and groaned; he dropped his gun, slowly raised his hands, and turned. Unable to hide a grudging smile he nodded, "Good game, Jane. I guess the girls won."

She lowered her weapon and held out her hand for a handshake unable to hide an infectious grin, "This was fun! We should do it again!"

But her victory was short-lived. The smile dropped from Jane's face when she felt the sharp pressure of a paintball impacting her thigh. She looked at Kurt in confused disbelief.

Kurt only shrugged, still holding the small paintball pistol he had pulled from his pocket. Jane could not believe it; she had lowered her guard and Kurt had SHOT her!

While she gaped like a goldfish he begin to crow boyishly, "I win!"

"You cheated! You _cheated_!That doesn't count— you already surrendered."

"Don't be a sore loser, Babe. All's fair in love and war." he put his hands on her waist and tugged her closer for a kiss but Jane wiggled out of his grasp defiantly.

"And is this love… or war?" She crossed her arms shrewdly.

"Both, of course"

Jane pouted and stomped her foot; she didn't care if it was childish, "You still cheated — I don't think it should count. I demand a rematch."

Kurt leaned forward and gently cupped her chin in his hand and pulled her close for a kiss, "Is it really so bad that I won the bet… We practically live together already."

It was true. Jane spent most of her free time with Kurt, and they usually stayed at Kurt's apartment. Most of her clothes were there as well as the new belongings he had been helping her collect. Kurt had asked her to move in with him officially last week, but she was dragging her feet. She was reluctant to lose her place of refuge. Jane was loathe to admit that a tiny part of her still feared that he would change his mind.

Kurt had gamely proposed a wager on today's paintball game — if he won, she would move in officially and if she won, they would reassess next month.

Honestly, she was tired of listening to her insecurities. She had been working with Dr. Borden to regain her self-confidence and raise her expectations. Kurt had been nothing except supportive and trustworthy.

Jane knew that she had never been happier — she knew they were ready for this step.

She melted into him and framed Kurt's face in her hands as she gave him a deep, lingering kiss. She brushed her nose against his and gazed fervently into his bottomless blue eyes before whispering against his lips, "I want to move in— but I still won."

It was important to keep the record straight — there were bragging rights to consider.

Kurt's face broke into a huge grin as he lifted her up and twirled her around and around in the sunlight. They laughed freely as she slid down his body as he freckled her nose and cheeks with butterfly kisses until he pressed her against a tree to passionately crush his mouth against hers.

…

Unbeknownst to Kurt and Jane, they had two, extra pairs of eyes witnessing their celebration.

"Told you I'd win the bet," Tasha boasted as she and Reade quietly left to give the couple some privacy.

"Yeah, yeah- I'll give you your money next week," Reade grumbled

"Hold on. Double or nothing, they won't let us know they're official until next week," Tasha couldn't resist another friendly wager.

"Those two are pretty private, I'll take that bet, we won't find out for at least two weeks." Reade spotted a conniving look on Tasha's face, "And no influencing the outcome, Zapata, or you forfeit."

The two bickered and conspired until they met up with Borden and Patterson at ground zero. They made up an excuse about losing Jane and Weller in the forest… to give them some extra time together.

Only those two would use an epic paintball battle to decide when they would move in together. A walking fairytale in camo gear and paint.

...

* * *

...

10 Months Later

...

It was the early in October, Kurt and Jane were taking advantage of a lazy Sunday to enjoy one of the last sunny days of the year. After breakfast at a local bistro and a leisurely stroll around Central Park they had settled on a park bench. Kurt was reading the newspaper while Jane had reclined on the bench with her head cradled in his lap.

Kurt found it hard to focus on the paper— he was easily distracted by the smile playing around Jane's lips while she slept. She had fought heartily against her need for a nap, but once she had relaxed it had only taken minutes for her to fall asleep.

It had taken Kurt months to truly convince Jane that she was the love of his life. Even now, when she woke up from the occasional nightmare he could read the wide-eyed fear in her eyes when she saw his face. Those nights always made his throat swell and his heart ache. On those nights he held her a little closer and made love to her more intensely; Kurt would do anything to ensure that Jane knew she was loved.

Sandstorm had been taken down when Jane had managed to turn Roman. Now, Roman consulted with the team to investigate the remaining tattoo cases and reveal further cases of corruption. Damn did that man hate him at first. Roman wanted his sister back— and he resented Kurt's presence in Jane's life; but together, Kurt and Jane were slowly bringing him into the team.

Kurt ran his hands through Jane's hair absentmindedly and twined his fingers around her curls. It as amazing how much his life had changed in a year.

Last year, he was Jane's tormentor. Last year, Kurt had let Jane go through hell while he was complicit in her agony. Now, he had earned her forgiveness. Now, he was her lover and fiancé. The corners of his mouth lifted when Jane's lashes fluttered as she roused from her nap; the engagement ring on her finger sparkled as she unconsciously reached for his hand.

Kurt marvelled at how he could hold his whole world in his arms.

…

Jane slowly drifted into wakefulness to the feeling of Kurt playing with her hair. She fought a silly smile; he loved to do that. She lay there boneless, with her eyes closed for a minute longer just enjoying the moment… just enjoying this peaceful, lazy day with her favourite person.

It had been hard to trust him — to trust their relationship. Jane was so used to the floor dropping out from under her feet, that she had spent months waiting for the punchline. It had taken a lot to get them to this point; lots of conversations, fights, therapy and reassurances.

Last year was a study in penance. She used to be the nameless, tattooed woman in Time Square — the traitorous amnesiac who inspired her team's hatred. She was so down-trodden, terrorized and depressed that she barely struggled through each day. Last year Kurt was her unrealized dream and a factor in her downward decline.

This past year had transformed her life. She had paid the price and now she could reap the rewards. Now when Jane had nightmares, she woke up to Kurt's reassuring face. Now, she had a family: Roman, the team and her fiancé — all of whom cared about her, flaws and all. She expected and demanded more from life.

Jane let her viridian eyes open to meet Kurt's gaze. He was her starting point, and now they were on a journey together.

…

Jane smiled up at Kurt and they sat in comfortable silence admiring the fineness of the day. She giggled as Kurt leaned forward to peck her lips and then tilt over and drop a kiss her stomach. Their hands met as they caressed the barely-noticeable bump.

"Come on, Beautiful, we should feed you. The baby's probably starving."

Kurt stretched and raised himself off of the bench before he gallantly held out his hands and tugged Jane to her feet. If Jane thought Kurt was overprotective before, it was nothing compared to now — and she was only three months along!

She grinned mischievously, "Baby wants ice cream."

"Ice cream? _She_ wants ice cream?" Kurt shook his head at Jane's childish request.

"Yes, _he_ does."

"Well, _she_ can have ice cream after a balanced, nutritious lunch." Kurt countered neatly.

"Fine, but _he_ wants mint chocolate chip." Jane swung their joined hands and beamed at her fiancé.

"Whatever you want, Jane."

…

The End

* * *

...

It's sad to see it end but I finished it.

My first ever fan fiction — When I started I had no clue if I would ever complete it but it's shocking how addictive it is to write on this site

…

To all my lovely reviewers — you kept me dedicated to the outcome and were so encouraging.

I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

I am thinking some outtakes or something might be in order, but there are so many ideas floating around my head. My new focus is on this out-of-the-box future fic that I can't get out of my head. Once I actually write something and plot it out, I will see if you guys like it.

*Hint* Future fic. Kurt and Jane are happy until someone from her past intrudes.

…

If you have read my story all the way through, please let me know your impressions and any new ideas


	11. Outtake 1

I was so bummed that they decided not to air a new episode of blindspot - so I channeled my frustration into this. My first out take. **Also check out the end of the chapter because I really need your guys' help.**

* * *

...

This takes place between last chapter and the epilogue

I read a prompt that went something like this… "He was feeling a little extra neanderthal" and I absolutely HAD to use it.

It was only a matter of time before the team got a new case and Jane hasn't been cleared for field duty yet… not that she was going to let that stop her. But Kurt won't let her go without a fight.

Kurt hasn't really had an outlet yet for all the emotions he has internalized — Jane's trauma isn't something easily fixed and his inability to physically combat her problems is bound to cause him some frustration. Complex, undealt with emotions + a frustrating fight + the overwhelming urge to protect Jane = rash and neanderthal Kurt

* * *

...

First Outtake

Neanderthal

...

It had been a long night for both of them. A long night in a series of long nights. Therapy with Borden was making a difference in small ways, but difficult nights were still agonizingly common. Jane had, had a distressing bout of nightmares that left her screaming, shaking and sweating in Kurt's arms. And, she had cried out his name— again.

It was frustrating; he was so desperate to do something— anything— to help Jane when she face such obvious struggles. But Kurt could do nothing but hold her; he felt useless and helpless. Lately, those feelings had begun to explode outwards in rash displays of overprotectiveness that drove Jane crazy.

This was one of those instances… an extreme instance… he was feeling a little extra neanderthal today.

…

"You're not coming"

As soon as the words fell out of his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. Of course, she couldn't go on this mission. It had only been a few weeks, her ribs hadn't healed completely, she was exhausted after several sleepless nights, and, most importantly, she was _not_ cleared for field duty.

It should be obvious— logical even. But that didn't mean she would appreciate hearing that from him in such a tone. This was probably something he should have discussed with her in private instead of blurting it out in front of everyone in no uncertain terms.

Jane's green eyes sparked angrily as she aimed a ferocious scowl at Kurt's resolute expression. The rest of the team took a large step back, hoping to avoid friendly fire.

"Why not?"

He raised both hands in an attempt to disarm her angry reaction and took a slow step towards her, "You haven't been cleared for—"

"—I'm fine! It's my decision," she bit out as she matched him step for step until their noses were almost touching.

"I am being responsible— You should give it a try." Kurt tried to keep his feelings in check but his emotions were already too close to the surface.

"I fine."

"I'm sorry, Jane, but my decision is final. No active duty until you have been cleared by a doctor." He crossed his arms and stared down his nose at her infuriated face.

The team held a collective breath — things were getting hot in the bullpen and you could cut the tension with a spoon.

Her next words were seething and so quiet, only Kurt could hear the barely audible threat, "Try and stop me — this is _my_ mission, I should be there."

It was Jane's turn for a misstep— it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Her relentless focus on "her mission" was a sore spot for Kurt. He hated that a part of her still believed that her only value to the team, and to him, was her blind devotion to their cause. Fury overtook rational thought. Kurt ignored her hiss of distaste and propelled Jane into his office. He shut the door soundlessly and closed the blinds before turning to face her with a grim countenance. He gestured for her to take a seat —his attempt at professional decorum was met with a clenched jaw and subtle eye-roll, but she sat herself stiffly in the chair.

"Jane, I need you to be reasonable— you cannot go into the field when you are injured."

"I'm a grown woman, Kurt. It's been a few weeks and I am aware of my own limitations. I'm tired of being cooped up in the office — I _hate_ that I can't watch your back when you leave on missions without me. I refuse to do it anymore." Her hands reached out, pleading for him to understand.

He refused to be softened by her earnest expression. He would never compromise her safety again. "I understand, Jane… really, I do… but I won't change my mind."

Her bright green eyes flickered and an impassive mask slipped over her previously open features, "Am I speaking to Assistant Director Weller or my boyfriend Kurt?"

He winced at her apathetic tone but he had to stand firm, "In this case, they are agreed. You would endanger yourself and the team if I allowed you in the field in your present condition."

"I see"

A line had been drawn in the sand and they stared at each other locked in a silent battle.

...

Time was ticking— the team needed to be on their way. They were already short a team-member without Jane so, despite his wishes, he needed to leave now. Kurt broke the impasse and knelt in front of her chair, "Can I trust you to stay here safely when the team leaves."

Kurt could practically see her mind working furiously as she debated her answer, "No," she uttered decisively, "You need me— if you leave me here, I will figure out a way to find you and help you by myself. You might as well take me with you."

It was a threat. She was trying to force his hand by offering an even worse alternative.

Normally, Kurt would try to stay calm… try to stay professional… he would not let his personal feelings take control. But, it has been mentioned that it had been a rough few days for him. He was working on very little sleep and too much caffeine. He had been dealing with a lot of psychological upheavals and had been frustrated for weeks with his inability to physically protect Jane from her nightmares. Kurt's emotions were running high and hot.

Therefore, when Jane threatened to put herself in danger… he snapped. Adrenaline rushed through his body fuelled by a sudden surge of blind, uncivilized, protective instinct. So, yes, he was feeling a little extra neanderthal today.

…

He got off his knees and put both hands on the armrests, crowding her as he leaned into her personal space. Jane leaned back in the chair, surprised and distracted by Kurt's abrupt proximity. He used a deep and thorough kiss to hide his actions as he reached into a nearby drawer. He knew he wasn't playing fair — but right now he didn't care.

Jane jerked out of the kiss with a gasp of alarm when she felt the cold embrace of steel lock against her wrists. Her eyes darted between the cuffs that restrained her to the chair and Kurt's apologetic expression, "While I love your courage and determination, Jane, I can't let you endanger your health just to prove a point."

"You can't be serious!" she rattled the cuffs angrily.

He kissed her forehead gently and winced when she jerked her head out of his reach, "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. But this way, I know you'll be safe."

"This is psychotic! You can't _do_ this…"

He ignored her protests and exited his office. He would deal with the consequences later — at least he knew she would be alive to argue with him when he returned.

Yeah… neanderthals weren't generally known for their clever ideas. Too bad he didn't foresee the ramifications of his actions.

…

At first, Jane's blind rage kept her mind occupied. How dare he literally bind her to his will. It wasn't his right to make this decision. She was an adult —not his child or his property that he could force her hand this way. He would rue this decision… RUE!— and she was moving back to her safe house, _tonight_.

She scooted around the room and searched for a tool to pick the locks on the cuffs — but she found nothing. He had locked all the drawers and, stupid, obsessive Kurt, had only left her a bottle of water with a straw and an unwrapped protein bar. Even _she_ couldn't Macgyver that.

Jane refused to call for help. She received enough attention in the office as it was, she shuddered at the gossip that would emerge from agents finding her cuffed to Kurt's chair in his office.

As time passed, however, anxiety took hold.

The cuffs encircling her wrists brought back bad memories. The last time Kurt had cuffed her was that horrible day... the horrible day that lead to the CIA and… No no nononono— terrifying and dark memories of her torturous time in CIA custody swirled through her mind and washed away cogent thought.

When she looked down, her mind flashed back to the not-so-distant past and she was back in the dark and dank prison. She could smell her own blood and unwashed body. She could taste the vomit in her mouth. She could feel burning pain of frigid water trapped in her lungs. She could hear the relentless taunts of her captors as they convinced her that she would die alone and unloved— useless. All she could see were the walls closing in around her and her mind was lost.

Jane was trapped in a living nightmare.

Her wrists tugged and strained mindlessly against the cuffs until the skin chafed and bled. Minutes then hours ticked by, and, as she fell deeper into the rabbit-hole of her fears, her panic increased. She couldn't focus; she couldn't control her body's reaction. Her breath came in rapid gasps until hyperventilation mercifully caused her to pass out.

…

The team returned to the NYO unscathed. They had received intel that there would be an attack on a local political event. They arrived, evacuated the building and secured the guests without any issues. After sweeping for hidden bombs and weaponry they returned to the office; the intel was false.

Kurt opened his office door warily— half expecting Jane to come flying at him with a stapler or start screaming at him in Russian. But it was silent. He opened the door all the way and froze at the sight of Jane, ashen and slumped, in his chair.

"JANE!" Her eyes fluttered weakly at his distressed shout; Kurt rushed forward.

Unconscious soothing sounds bubbled from his throat as he smoothed his hands over the clammy, pale skin of her cheeks and forehead. He searched desperately for signs of trauma and choked when he saw the early bruises and crusted blood that ringed her delicate wrists. He cursed himself to hell and back for his idiocy as he fumbled for his keys.

"Sweetheart, please answer me! Open your pretty green eyes and talk to me… yell at me… _anything!_ "

She cracked an eyelid and mustered a weak glare, "I'm gonna kick your ass, Weller."

His breath exhaled in a deep whoosh and he leaned forward with a silent prayer of relief, "Thank God, Jane. What happened?"

"The cuffs reminded me… panicked… couldn't breathe… feel numb… tired."

Her explanation was mumbled and disjointed but Kurt was able to reason out what occurred. With a severe mental slap he inwardly swore at his idiotic and contemptible decision. "I'm so sorry, Jane. I… I can't— I didn't think… How _could_ I have… I never…" he shuddered, "I am so _sorry_."

Kurt was never one to admit that he needed help. But, now, even he had to concede that he might need a few hours with Borden to deal with his state of mind. In truth, maybe he and Jane should consider doing a few therapy sessions as a couple.

Jane clumsily attempted to stand but Kurt swiftly lifted her into his arms and drew her carefully to his chest. "Let's get you to a doctor and then I'll take you home."

Jane was too tired to truly argue. She muttered a few token objections before she closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin. If she had been more awake she would have been mortified at the spectacle they made. Imagine, Kurt, striding out of his office with her in his arms — the office stunned into a confused hush.

So much for preventing any more gossip.

…

Zapata, Reade and Patterson watched the proceedings with equal parts concern and fascination.

Zapata turned to her friend, "Soo, Patterson, care to place a wager on Kurt and Jane…?"

…

* * *

...

Okay so my mind is warring between two story ideas. Here they are— tell me which one you think I should work on first.

Option 1

Jane and Kurt are happy and together. Sandstorm has been stopped and Roman is working with the FBI (albeit grudgingly). Everything seems fine until someone from Jane's past refuses to let her go and she disappears.

Option 2

An alternative to 2x01. The team receives a tip from Rich about a location that they need to investigate. The location is Jane's black site. Jane has been in CIA custody longer than 3 months and has retreated far into her mind.

* * *

Thoughts?


	12. Outtake 2

**Your guys' responses to my last chapter were so awesome and appreciated. As a big THANK YOU, here is a nice, long outtake. Also, there is an update about my next story below.**

* * *

Okay, did anyone else have some mixed reactions to our latest episode? There were some great and funny moments but… honestly, how could the team be so hurtful and mean. Plus, Weller's guilt trip and comment at the end made me want to slap him upside the head.

My frustrations morphed into a happy outtake surrounding the time where Jane finds out she is pregnant. It takes place shortly before the epilogue.

* * *

...

Outtake 2

Veto

...

The world spun. Nausea surged, this time uncontrollable. Jane was no stranger to cool touch of the porcelain toilet. She leaned heavily against her old friend, the bathroom partition. _This was getting out of hand_. She had thought that she had gotten past the compulsive vomiting, but for the past couple weeks it had resurged. Jane didn't understand why it was happening, her nightmares had decreased and she didn't feel any other flu symptoms.

For the most part, Jane had managed to hide the nausea from Kurt. The few times he had witnessed her throwing up, she had brushed it off and told him that it was due to a bad bout of nightmares. She felt terrible lying to him — but a mystery disease would only worry him unnecessarily.

Once she felt steady enough, she manoeuvred herself shakily off of the white tile and fumbled with the lock on the stall. Jane leaned down to brush the dirt off her knees and looked up, surprised, to meet the raised eyebrows of Patterson reflected back at her in the bathroom mirror.

"Alright, Jane, spill. Every morning this week, I have seen you bolt in here… what's up?"

"Nothing… really. I just wasn't feeling well." Jane avoided the blonde's penetrating stare as she rinsed her mouth and cautiously attempted to sidestep Patterson to reach the door.

Don't let those guileless blue eyes fool you— Patterson could be as pushy and tenacious as an overbearing mother. She quickly moved to cut off Jane's escape. "Hold it! Symptoms shouldn't last this long… so if you're still sick, you should go see a doctor. I'm going to go tell Weller—"

"—Really, Patterson, I'm fine now. You don't need to worry Kurt; he has so much on his plate. I really _am_ fine… I've been this way for weeks and the nausea goes away by the afternoon." The workplace was absolutely not the time or the place to tell Kurt about this, surely Patterson could understand that.

Jane anxiously searched Patterson's face for assurances and, instead, saw a wide grin. Patterson squealed and squeezed her in a tight, bouncy hug, "Why didn't you _tell_ me. This is so EXCITING, Jane!"

Jane patted the other woman's back awkwardly, "I don't usually find vomiting that exciting, Patterson, but… okay?"

"Not the vomiting, silly, the…" her voice trailed off and she cocked her head at Jane wonderingly, "… oh… OH! You have no idea, do you?" She paused in thought, "That's okay… we'll take an early lunch."

…

Jane found an empty conference room and sat down. Her body felt numb, the chair was the only thing anchoring her in place. Pregnant, she was pregnant…

Patterson had taken her to the drugstore and helped her buy several pregnancy tests. Four sticks… all positive. This was… she had never… She stared at her stomach intently and gingerly ran a hand across her belly. A baby. Kurt's baby. A slow smile blossomed across Jane's face… their baby.

Reaching down with both hands now, she gently palmed the still-flat abdomen. In the privacy of the empty room, an overwhelming feeling of fierce joy washed over her as she silently greeted the small life. _I'm in shock and I'm not sure that I can think straight, but I already know one thing, I want this baby and I am already in love with this little life._

Jane had never thought that something like this would happen for her….

She had managed to eke out a life following the convoluted horror of her past. She had even found happiness and healing in Kurt's arms. But she never thought that she would ever actually get to experience motherhood and family like a normal person… it was like a fantasy brought to life.

Patterson was sworn to secrecy until she could figure out a way to tell Kurt. She hoped he was going to be happy about this… she knew that Kurt doubted his ability to be a good dad. She steeled herself to every possible reaction. Regardless of the outcome, she refused to envision a future without her child in it. If she had to, she would do it alone.

...

* * *

…

Jane's legs jiggled nervously as she waited impatiently for Kurt to come home from work. She had claimed a migraine and left the office early in order to get her mind straight. She felt shaky and on the edge of nausea again, so much for morning sickness. She put her hand on her abdomen reassuringly, _Stay still, Baby._

Patterson had insisted that she tell Kurt as soon as possible. She had enthusiastically spouted dozens of adorable ways to share the news. The ideas ranged from baby themed gifts and funny cards to fake fortune cookies and giving him the positive pregnancy test. To tell the truth, she had spent most of the day trying to figure out the best way to do it. It wasn't until she had wandered into a baby boutique that the solution fell into her lap. It had seemed so simple at the time, but now, as time ticked down to Kurt's arrival… Jane wasn't so sure.

Tired of sitting she began to pace.. and wring her hands… and talk out loud to her stomach. Yep, she was losing it.

 _What if he hates the idea of the pregnancy? What if he doesn't want you? He has to want you, that's all there is to it. Don't worry, Baby, I want you and I will love you forever. We will be fine no matter what._

"Hey I brought Chinese!" Kurt's entrance was heralded by the welcoming waft of steamed rice. Jane paused abruptly and monitored her body's reaction. No nausea. _Thank God… that would have been an awkward way to share the news._

She shuffled nervously into the kitchen where Kurt unpacked dinner. Biting her lip, she swallowed heavily and gathered her courage, "Kurt, I need to tell you something."

Kurt's hands slowed and then stopped as he gave her an assessing look. The naked fear in her eyes gave him immediate concern. Instinctually, he advanced to her side and took her shaking hands in his own. He couldn't see any apparent signs of damage or injury, but with Jane, you couldn't be too sure.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?"

"I'm good," she smiled apprehensively, "I'm better than good and I have a surprise for you"

"You're making me nervous, Jane." he smiled jokingly to break the tension.

"I know," she sighed and walked over to the couch to retrieve the hidden gift bag. "I am probably doing it all wrong." She thrust the bag into his hands, "Here."

He met her eyes cautiously before rifling through the bag. Under layers of tissue paper he felt soft fabric against his rough fingertips. With confusion, Kurt tugged the garment to the surface. It was a small onesie? A tiny, white onesie with a large FBI logo and written underneath were the words 'My Daddy is my Super Hero.'

His heart thudded loudly as a tendril of uncertain hope rose in his chest. Kurt's eyes flew to Jane's stomach before they darted back up to her face. A joyful exclamation burst from his chest and he excitedly lifted Jane and twirled her through the air.

"Really? Jane, are you sure?" his open expression of delight met hers as the air whipped her curls around her face.

She gave him a radiant smile and cupped his cheek, "Four pregnancy tests and a lot of vomit say that I'm pregnant. Are you… happy?"

"Happy?" Kurt let her body slide down into his arms and pressed his forehead against hers to take in the moment. He squeezed her tightly and whispered, "I never thought I could be this happy."

…

* * *

...

Jane rubbed her temples furiously. Honestly, she wished she had never told Kurt _anything_.

At first she was so relieved that he was excited— so overjoyed that he wanted to be so involved. Now she wished that she could have avoided telling Kurt until the last month of pregnancy. It had only been 5 days and he was driving her _crazy_!

 _He was making her give up coffee._

 _Every time she went to the bathroom he tried to follow her inside_

 _He wouldn't let her carry the laundry and wanted to hold her hand up the stairs in case she slipped and fell_

 _He got into a fight with an innocent bystander who was smoking "in her direction"_

 _He was an absolute dictator about her prenatal vitamins_

 _He had started driving 10 miles below the speed limit_

 _He had developed an obsession with quoting the baby book_

But the absolute worst thing was his paranoia about work. She appreciated his concern, really she did, and she tried to empathize… but she wasn't even showing yet and barely had any symptoms of pregnancy. Despite Kurt's opinion, Jane didn't feel like she was acting recklessly and she didn't understand why he wouldn't let her do her job just a little while longer.

…

Kurt lay on his side and took in the sight of his sleeping girlfriend. With infinite care he brushed his fingers through her hair and let them rest on the soft skin of her cheek. Soothed by the sound of her even breaths and let his gaze sweep down to her stomach. Even now, days later, he was amazed by the rush of joy that flooded his senses every time that he thought about Jane pregnant with his child. A family — his family.

The blinding protectiveness was a little unnerving. Drawing her close, he let Jane's head rest on his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He wished he could keep her safe this easily during the day, but she was being so stubborn. Really, she was being entirely too reckless.

 _She stood on a wobbly stool to get a box out of the closet_

 _She kept going running alone_

 _She insisted that she was allowed one cup of regular coffee a day_

 _She refused to stay home from work, even though she was still vomiting every day_

 _She continued to use the microwave_

 _She went with the girls to the shooting range… the SHOOTING range!_

But the thing that caused the most friction was their differing opinion on the work situation. If he had it his way, she would be on desk duty immediately. Whereas she insisted that she would be okay to go in the field for at least another month.

Why didn't she understand that he couldn't breathe when he thought about her in danger? Didn't she see that things were different now that she was pregnant? If anything happened to either of them… He shuddered— it was unbearable.

…

The next morning, Kurt woke up to cold sheets. His heart jumped in his chest until he heard the quiet clattering of Jane making breakfast in the kitchen. Sleepily, he dressed and slipped noiselessly from the room. Unobserved, he smiled as Jane moved easily around the island wearing only his oversized shirt. The image of her, barefoot and pregnant, gave him an almost primal sense of satisfaction.

She turned and caught his gaze with an absentminded, "Good morning," before she guiltily took a large sip from her coffee mug.

"Jane," he groaned, "Please tell me that isn't coffee."

She took a wary step backwards and clutched the mug protectively to her chest, "The studies I've read said that I could safely drink one cup of regular coffee per day. I am being careful and _you_ are being irrational."

He tried to argue but she held up her hand to silence him. "I have given it a lot of thought and I think we need a system or I will _hurt_ you. I realize that you are concerned about my safety and I am willing to compromise. So, I will grant you three vetoes a day. If I am doing something that you think is dangerous, you can veto it and I will try to stop. However, I am allowed one counter veto AND you cannot veto my going to work."

She waited impatiently for his response— it had taken her a while to come up with a suitable compromise and she thought it was fair. She let out the air she was holding when his solemn face melted into a grateful smile and he strode forward to kiss her ardently. "I can work with that."

He plucked her coffee cup from her hands and poured it down the sink. Then turned, ignored her indignant sulk, and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, "Veto."

…

* * *

...

"VETO!"

"Damn it, Kurt, it's a routine call. We are just going to go ask the guy a few questions, he is only a witness and has no history of violent behaviour."

Tasha and Reade watched the argument jump back and forth across the table like a tennis match. They wiggled their eyebrows at each other before smothering chuckles under the table. Lately the arguments between Jane and Weller had become explosive and entertaining as hell. Plus, there was a strange 'veto system' in play, to which only Jane and Weller knew the rules.

Patterson busied herself with files to avoid smiling like an idiot— she was the only one on the team that knew about the baby and she was determined to keep the secret as long as necessary. By her calculations, Jane was roughly 10 weeks pregnant now, hopefully, they would tell everyone the good news soon.

"I don't care, Jane, we both know he may be more than a witness— he could be an accomplice in those bombings. _Veto_."

"That is your fourth veto, today. I'm sorry, but you're capped and I'm going," she slammed her hands on the desk and pushed to her feet defiantly before sailing out of the room.

Kurt's furious face met the rest of teams' with single-minded determination, "She is to go _nowhere_ alone! I have a bad feeling about this one."

Those proved to be famous last words.

…

Hours later, Kurt's strained face looked on a scene out of his worst nightmares. The apartment building had exploded. Rubble covered half the street and emergency services had arrived in a cacophony of sirens and flurried activity. Flames were shooting out of windows and civilians were hovering on the peripheries covered in ash and blood. It was a hellish tableau…

And Jane had been trapped inside of it. Jane and his unborn child.

She and Reade had gone in to question the witness while he and Tasha questioned the doorman and service staff. One minute everything had been fine and the next… the world had flown apart. He and Tasha had been blown free of the building but Reade and Jane had been trapped somewhere on the second floor.

After Tasha had been secured, Weller plunged into the inferno and hurtled up the fragmented staircase. The smoke-filled hallways were dark and filled with splintered walls and debris but he raced haphazardly through the mess screaming Jane's name. Amidst the madness, he heard a muffled shout that sounded like a response. Through a gaping hole he could make out the shape of a figure digging through wreckage. Jane!

With an audible sob of gratitude he yanked her battered form against his chest and reassured himself that she was still breathing. "Thank God, you're alive! You just scared years off of my life— _Never_ do that again."

She gave him a ghost of a grin, "There you go again, giving orders."

Together they unearthed Reade, who had been struck down by a flying door, and met up with the team of firemen who were combatting the blaze and gathering survivors. They were escorted to safety and Kurt hand-delivered her to the waiting paramedics. He brooked no arguments and announced loudly that she was pregnant and needed to be checked out immediately.

Zapata and Reade gaped comically at the proclamation — but were quick to compose themselves and offer congratulations. Luckily, the medics said that she was fine, however, they advised that she visit her doctor promptly.

Once they were alone in the SUV, Jane turned to Kurt with a sigh of defeat, "I've decided that I'm going to pull back from fieldwork."

"I'm glad you've seen reason" Kurt condescended, relieved.

"Hey, I'm trying to be sensible, but when you say things like that it makes me want to disagree with you just to teach you a lesson." She countered grumpily.

"It's a good thing you love me."

…

* * *

...

The team gathered for a dinner two weeks later to celebrate the end of Jane's first trimester. Jane prayed that it would also mark the end of her morning sickness. The party was a loud affair with plenty of food, laughter and presents. And, although Jane couldn't drink, some of the team imbibed a little too liberally.

"Jane!" Tasha giggled loudly, "… Natasha is an excellent name for a girl."

"Hey, or Edgar for a boy," Reade cut in.

"Dude, no. Just no. You're my best friend, but we can't inflict that name on their kid."

Everyone laughed at Reade's insulted pout before throwing in their own suggestions. Patterson began a large list to document some of the more ridiculous ideas. However, Kurt and Jane stayed pretty tight-lipped about which names they favoured.

"Hey, Patterson, what about your name for the baby?"

…

* * *

Isn't it strange that we still don't know Patterson's first name?

* * *

 **Story Update**

Due to an overwhelming majority, it looks like I will be starting with option 2. Your enthusiasm is genuinely inspiration and I am bursting with ideas for it. Right now, I am in the process of plotting and early writing, so hopefully I will get a chapter to you soon.

Judging by the intense trailer for the fall finale — we are going to need some jeller fics to get us through the hiatus.

* * *

 **Random Question**

Which endearments do you think Jane and Weller would call each other?


End file.
